The Ice Prince
by Meiran Chang
Summary: A retelling of Beauty and the Beast, starring Duo as a rather atypical Beauty and Zechs as the mysterious Beast. 6x2, 3x4, 1xR, MexUrmom. **Whoops, I forgot to upload the last 2 parts a few years ago, so I tacked them on now. SORRY**
1. Prologue

**The Ice Prince: Prologue**  
by Meiran Chang

Once upon a time in the kingdom of Oz, in the grand palace in the capital White Fang, Queen Peacecraft at last gave birth to a son. The royal household and the court sighed a great sigh of relief, for they had feared the absence of a legitimate Heir and the chaos such an absence could wreak. The people rejoiced, and the King and Queen named the infant prince Zechs Milliardo Peacecraft. 

As a child, Zechs was quiet, intelligent and well-mannered, with a serious air about him unbefitting his tender years that nevertheless endeared him to the court and people. The boy prince matured under the guidance of his mother and father into a calm and elegant young man of scholarly bent, with clear blue eyes and long, pale blonde hair. Zechs was an excellent fencer, but he flatly refused to go hunting and had few friends among the children of the nobility. He was often described by visitors to the court as seeming sad.

Nonetheless, he was kind and good, and the people adored him for it. He was naturally suited to rule and had a presence of inherent nobility. When tensions among high-born rivals or wealthy merchants reached the killing point, Zechs was always the chosen arbiter, and his justice was indisputably even-handed. His popularity did not diminish when it became common knowledge that he preferred those of his own sex, for he was not the first ruler with such a preference, and it seemed that all would be well in the kingdom when King Peacecraft died.

Then one spring morning, when Zechs was nineteen, he disappeared.

As soon as it was verified that Zechs was not anywhere in the palace or city, the king and queen formed search parties created entirely of volunteers and sent them out, not only to Oz, but also to the neighboring kingdoms of Uchuu, Fhedrashun, and Koelonye. It was to no avail. Not a trace of the lost Heir was found, and after years of searching, even the most determined were forced to give up. The throne was relegated to the prince's younger brother, Walker, who could never rule as his brother Zechs would have and knew it.

All of Oz mourned for their prince, the pride of their kingdom. King and Queen Peacecraft remained hopeful, but though knight after brave knight searched for the lost Heir, it was all in vain. Years passed, Prince Walker studied diligently what had come so naturally to his older brother, and the people eventually returned to normalcy.


	2. Chapter I

**The Ice Prince: Chapter I**  
by Meiran Chang

The capital city of White Fang was a lively one. The Peacecraft Palace was located there, of course, along with the homes of many writers, nobles, and other people of importance. Libra Port at the north end of the city on the mouth of the Sea of Taurus was one of the busiest ship ports in the land, and the economy bustled, prodded enthusiastically by the Merchant's Guild. The streets of White Fang weren't paved with gold, though upon occasion, the King had played with the idea, but it was nevertheless known as the City of Dreams. It was divided into the Theater District, the Financial District, and the Residential District, and people traveled from as far away as Brussels and Artemisia to sightsee. 

The leader of the Merchant's Guild, a powerful Guild that controlled the flow of goods into and out of Oz, was a young idealist named Dorlian Maxwell. His whirlwind romance with the flower of the nobility, Sylvia Noventa, delighted the gossips, and their marriage was attended by everyone who mattered. Sylvia was a delicate girl, ocean-eyed and golden-locked, admired as much for her sweet light-heartedness as for her ethereal beauty.

A few months after the wedding, Dorlian allowed it to be known that his wife was with child. It was a long, hard delivery for the fragile Sylvia, but with the best doctors Oz could offer at her side, she made it through. The infant was a girl, and the couple named her Relena after the first Peacecraft Queen and champion of pacifism. Relena had dark blue eyes and wheat-yellow hair; she was not an extraordinarily pretty child, but she was stubbornly bright.

When Relena was two, Sylvia gave birth to another child, Dorlian's first son. She was two days in labor and there was some fear she might be lost along with her child, but the baby was born before the exhausted mother reached the critical point. After Sylvia rested, she and Dorlian decided to name the infant boy Quatre as a nod to their friend Quaterina Winner, the matriarch of the wealthy Winner clan. Quatre was a cheerful child with bright blue eyes and shining gold hair like his mother. He was, unfortunately, often confused for a girl. He learned to walk and talk early, and his tests as a young child showed that he possessed the spark of genius.

Out of worry for his beloved wife's health, Dorlian restrained himself, and Quatre was five before Dorlian and Sylvia decided to try for one more child. As always, she was provided with all the luxuries and comforts possible, and her bed was ringed by hovering doctors constantly. She broke water one cold winter night, and at once it was clear that she could not live through the childbirth. She died during the delivery. The doctors worked frantically to save her child and succeeded, the only thing that softened Dorlian's rage and pain. The infant was a second son, and a grieving Dorlian named the baby boy Duo, that his mother's spirit might hover with him always.

Duo was an adorable child, always smiling, always laughing. Sylvia's death rocked Dorlian's world, but nurturing the son she left behind kept Dorlian anchored to reality. With time the pain receded, and Dorlian was able to look at his son and recognize in Duo all the things he had loved about Sylvia.

The three Maxwell children grew to become the talk of the city, and it wasn't because of their powerful father. As Relena grew older she became a fine orator: rhetorically skilled, compulsively honest, and convincingly earnest. Quatre was a musical prodigy who played seven different instruments with equal, extraordinary skill. Duo was rather more active than his siblings and made a name for himself as an active fencer, equestrian, actor, singer, and composer. With all that going on in his life, Duo never really found time to cut his hair, and by the time he noticed how long it was, the thick chestnut braid had become his trademark.

Relena was a bit _too_ honest upon occasion, and Quatre was always occupied in the study or practice chamber, so it was Duo whom the people knew best. It so happened that as Duo matured, he grew from an adorable boy to an exquisite young man. Tales of his loveliness spread through the city, strongly reminiscent of the acclaim his mother had received for her pulchritude, until anyone could pick him out at a glance.

At fifteen, Duo usually enjoyed basking in the attention of others. However, the tales, harmless intentions notwithstanding, began to encroach upon his personal space and dignity. His school companions found them hilarious, he found them embarrassing, he could no longer glance at a mirror without evoking much snickered comment, and strange girls stared at him in the streets on a regular basis. His only accomplishment that seemed to matter to the crowd was birth; all his other achievements were ignored, which got on his nerves because contrary to popular belief, he did not sit at home and pick out what clothing would go best with his eyes all day. He sang with real talent, he fenced foil in tournaments and rode well; he did not stare lovingly into his mirror from dawn to dusk and brush his hair.

The misconceptions abounded, helped along by the fabrications of White Fang's prolific poets. Duo took to hiding in his family's mansion because he could barely walk a peaceful ten paces down the street without being attacked by bards, artists, groupies, and wrathful young women who would have been the focus of admiration had he never been born. Heads turned and people whispered wherever he went. Being locked up in the house drove him and everyone else who had to listen to him mad, and finally, Quatre intervened with a few suggestions. Duo settled on outright, nose-in-the-air snobbery to handle the situation, hoping to be so unpleasant he would be left in peace.

Try as he might, however, Duo simply could not deter the poets. They renamed him, of all the possible humiliating things, '_Beauty_.' Duo was very easy-going, but he was also a fifteen-year-old male, and when he heard that, he had to be physically restrained from hunting down the ill-starred man, tying a heavy book of poetry around his neck and kicking him into the River Virgo. When that option was denied him, he raged creatively for hours, pacing the entirety of the mansion, giving the excited servants plenty of scandalous gossip-fodder.

It was Quatre, as always, who succeeded in calming him. He advised making the foppish courtiers twitch by dressing like an acolyte of Shinigami. Duo seized fiercely upon the idea, threatening his tailor with death by pincushion until the harried man fit him for an entire wardrobe of black. Unfortunately for Duo's touchy pride, stark black was a color that suited him much better than the Court outfits he'd previously sported. The whole effect of his sober attire was quite contrary to the one he had been hoping to achieve. Fevered songs and sonnets waxing eloquent on Duo's beauty multiplied overnight to the point where all that kept the beleaguered boy in White Fang was love of his family.

Duo grew desperate for an excuse to leave the city, and in September of his fifteenth year, his wish was granted. Dorlian lost the family's wealth and his position as Head of the Merchant's Guild by indulging in a dubiously legitimate business transaction. With a brave face, the merchant called his children together and told them that they would have to leave the glittering Capital for the only place he had left to his name, a small cottage on the border of Oz and Koelonye.

"From now on," Dorlian finished, "we'll have to make a living by farming." His sad gaze rested on each of his three beloved offspring. There was his favorite child, strong-willed Duo, looking quite serious now as he leaned back, arms crossed, against the wall. There was his music-maker, Quatre, drumming his fingers absently on the arm of his chair, clear blue eyes thoughtful. And there was redoubtable Relena, leaning forward earnestly in her seat. "I'm sorry that I can offer you nothing better," sighed the merchant. "I know that your mother would have -- "

" -- wanted us to pack as quickly as possible so that we could get to the cottage in time for harvest," Duo interrupted with a quick smile. "Please don't worry, Father. We don't mind. Truly." Seeing his father hesitate, he added forcefully, "_ Really_ we don't mind. Right?"

His brother and sister nodded with determination. "We'll make the best of it," Relena declared, rising imperiously and looking around as though she dared a soul to challenge her. "I'm not so city-bred that I can't get down on my hands and knees to grow what I'll be eating!"

"And I'm not so 'brilliant' that I'll die without the university," Quatre added, not quite managing to refrain from being sardonic (the bards had gotten to him as well).

"And I'm not so -- so _pretty _that I'll melt if I touch a grain of dirt!" Duo finished for them, tone adamant.

Dorlian sighed again. He would not enter a contest of wills with any of his children because they were young and hotheaded and would agitate themselves, but still, his children's talents, wasted...

The poor man put his head in his hands so that his children would not see him struggle with tears for what would be lost. He had been so prosperous, his family so admired… and now they were to become nothing more than backwoods farmers? Sylvia's sensitive, gifted, noble children, the legacies she had left him, doomed to become mere... mere... peasants! It should not be so!

Seeing her father's distress, Relena's stern exterior dissolved and she rushed upon him, cooing soft comforts and reassurances. Quatre and Duo looked at each other in a way that spoke volumes, shrugged, and went off to pack -- after all, Relena could convince the sky to rain monkeys and a politician to be honest, and if she couldn't persuade their father to see the best of things, no one could. Up in his room, Duo rejoiced by tearing up the poetry of the worst of the offenders and belting out the latest awful hits, while Quatre went calmly about his business with plugs in his ears.


	3. Chapter II

**The Ice Prince: Chapter II**  
by Meiran Chang

So the Maxwells left White Fang and its luxuries behind them, learning to farm the land and tend to their cottage. Fortunately, their neighbors were willing to help all they could; without assistance, the city-bred Maxwells would not have lasted through the first winter.

The Maxwells were fast learners, and by spring, the entire outfit was running smoothly. Relena was in charge of the kitchen, as she trusted no one else with the preparation of food she was expected to eat. Quatre took care of the farm animals as well as doing odd repair jobs whenever needed. Duo took care of the rest of the house, making sure everything was clean and everyone had fresh clothing to wear, while Dorlian had no set specific task, but rather assisted whoever called.

Since there were so few of them, they all helped with the hard labor, earning their food by the sweat of their brows. Calluses formed on their hands where they gripped their farming tools; muscles grew leaner and stronger. Dorlian was never very happy with what he called "yokelism," but his children were satisfied.

Whenever the family had free time, they relaxed in the small yet cozy sitting room. Duo lived to sing and Quatre was a skilled musician, so the two of them would perform for the rest of the family, Quatre accompanying Duo's voice on the flute he'd smuggled out of White Fang. Relena cared little for the technicalities of music and had no talents to offer in that area, but she had a good ear and was able to offer sound critique.

In a small farm a short distance to the west lived Catherine and Trowa Bloom. Catherine had once been a knife thrower in a circus, and Trowa, her quiet, green-eyed younger brother, had been her assistant and a skilled acrobat in his own right. As the circus traveled in the kingdom of Uchuu, Trowa became deathly ill. Though he hid his sickness for as long as he could, the pain eventually grew too great and he was forced to confess to Catherine. That same evening Catherine left the circus and took him with her in search of help. The doctors in Uchuu's capital Kah-Nohn were able to save him, but Trowa remained frail, resisting the label of 'invalid' only through sheer willpower. Catherine had brought him here, to the open countryside of Oz, in hopes that the clean air would heal her battered brother completely.

Oz healed him in both body and spirit, for in Oz, Trowa found Quatre. The two were devoted to each other from the first day they met. When they fell in love, no one was surprised.

To the east of the Maxwell farm lay the farm of the Yuy family. Shigeta Yuy was a native of the distant kingdom of Artemisia, while Hana Yuy was originally from Koelonye. They had one child together, a boy with Shigeta's dark blue eyes and Hana's gentle temperament. Heero was a wary young man now, somber, intense, and silent. Relena waxed eloquent over what she called his 'inner fire' and made many attempts to win Heero's heart, showing more patience than she or anyone else had expected.

Finally, Heero took her aside and told her the secret he had guarded so jealously: he had the rare, awesome Mage-Gift that not even Uchuu's scientists understood. He carefully explained that he didn't understand his Gift and wasn't sure he wanted to, and she needed to stop trying to be his friend. If he allowed her to become close to him, he said, his Gift -- barely under control anyway --could go rogue and devour her and everyone else he knew. Relena told her family later that night that Heero lived in daily fear of what he called "this monster inside me."

According to Relena, if Heero better understood his Gift like a trained mage did, he wouldn't need to be so afraid. Among the White Fang elite, everyone was taught the basics about Mage-Gift, just in case. With her knowledge, she helped him build a precarious control. Everyone saw the positive results: Heero came out of his shell for the first time in years, talking, laughing, joking, blue eyes bright, truly alive, a marked contrast from the withdrawn young man he had once been. Shigeta and Hana thanked Relena profusely, and Relena shrugged modestly and told them the truth: she would do anything for Heero, because she loved him.

Those were the most colorful and interesting of their neighbors, and the ones the Maxwells grew closest to. There were other families, but they were normal countryfolk, and the Maxwells were uncomfortable around them. The peasants of the area were generous and helpful, but Duo, Relena, Quatre and Dorlian couldn't relate to them at all. Their manners were crude and their ways were strange. Duo in particular had trouble with them for one simple reason: many of the families had daughters. And oh how they loved Duo Maxwell!

When Duo worked in the fields and the weather permitted, he didn't bother with a shirt. As he soon discovered, a shirt would only get filthy and nasty very soon if he wore one to work. Since he did the laundry, he did himself a favor and went without.

The number of girls this attracted mystified Duo. When he went outside to work, there was always a covey of peasant girls hanging on the fence, giggling, winking, teasing, blushing, coquetting. Duo didn't _get_ it. Weren't they supposed to be working?

Duo couldn't even tell them apart; they all had thatch-like mud-brown hair and eyes of the same indiscriminate shade and utterly regular, boring features. They were so unlike Heero Yuy, with those exotic Artemisian eyes and sharp features, or Trowa Bloom, with that piercing green gaze and soft honey-brown hair. Relena and Quatre were lucky. They had found the prizes that this area had to offer.

None of the daughters were prizes. They had only enough intelligence to be able to breathe and walk at the same time, but made up for it in their sheer reproductive drive. They fluttered, preened, murmured about how the family depended on them to keep the house clean, what wonderful cooks they were, what marvelous seamstresses they were, until Duo felt like shouting, _I know what you're trying to do! I know what game you're playing. I don't care about you. I don't even like you! Please go away!_

Of course, he couldn't actually _say_ any of that. Some of them genuinely liked him, and he didn't want to be some kind of heartbreaker.

So he kept himself aloof. He refused to give them false hope. When they chattered at him, Duo said just enough to be polite and promptly fled. To make up for it, he talked nonstop at home. It got on everyone's nerves, but he had to balance somehow.

His brother had Trowa Bloom. His sister had Heero Yuy. _He_ had a legion of farmer's daughters. There was no justice. Duo didn't resent his siblings' happiness in the slightest, and when they asked him what he thought, he always answered honestly and told them he was happy for them. He was.

But he did snap at them. He was human, after all. "This is just like White Fang," Duo told Quatre one day. "_Just_ like White Fang." He abandoned his attempt to dust the fireplace shelf -- he was knocking off too many keepsakes -- and flounced crossly down into a convenient chair. "Quatre, I don't like girls at all, you know that. Do I have to tell them so to make them go away?"

"Sorry, little brother." Quatre looked at him compassionately and sighed. "I hate to tell you, but they really won't care. They'd probably take you on as a cause and try to cure you."

"I'm not _diseased_." Duo scowled. "These women would turn anyone to buggery.They won't leave me _alone_, Quatre. I don't even _like_ them! Why can't they just leave me the hell _alone_…"

His older brother bit his lip and Duo watched as Quatre tried to think of something comforting to say. "Well, think of it this way. Nothing _bad _would happen if you _did_ let them know," Quatre said brightly. "So if you can't think of anything else to do, letting them know is always an _option_. It's just that they'll… um… probably refuse to accept that as the truth. I don't think they'd give up on you."

Duo made a face and slumped. "I wish I were ugly," he said glumly.

Quatre shrugged. "You'd be my brother either way. But you know," and he smiled, "I really should thank you. The girls have been entirely distracted. Did you know they used to bother Trowa?"

"No way!" Duo regarded his slight brother curiously. "What did Catherine do?"

"Wielded her rolling pin, causing mass destruction until Trowa was left in peace." Quatre grinned.

Duo laughed. "I could just picture her doing that, too… Well, I'm glad I help to protect your snuggle-muffin's virtue."

Though Quatre had cheered him up, Duo was still fed up with the unwelcome attention. That night, he formulated a plan; the very next day he put it in action. He went to the mothers of the girls and begged them to call their daughters off.

"Please," he would whisper urgently, widening his eyes, cocking his head a bit to the side, hands clutched in entreaty. Then he'd close his eyes, slowly for dramatic effect, bow his head, and pretend to fight away tears. "I… I don't think I can take it anymore. I have no time for myself anymore… and I feel so guilty. I feel I have been misleading you… Your daughter is a wonderful person, but she could never be happy with me." He would then sigh and open his eyes, gazing directly into the eyes of the mother. "I don't like girls, milady." He'd bite his lip here and look away shyly. "No girl wants to marry someone who can never love them."

The mothers were very nice about it, apologizing for any trouble their daughters were giving him and promising to stop them. Duo deliberately acted over-emotional, almost effeminate. He went to great lengths to seem pathetic and childlike, weak and helpless. This served a dual purpose. It made the mothers like him, for they jumped to protect this poor unhappy thing. He got lots of hugs, lots of reassurance, and lots of cookies, which wasn't disagreeable. It also made the mothers believe somewhere in their subconscious that he was still a _boy_, a _child_, who wasn't yet ready to marry and sire their grandchildren. None of these tough country women wanted weakling men in their family.

After that, the girls stopped bothering him, though he suspected they'd never stop staring. The males of the area ignored him as they had from the start.

Duo turned sixteen that winter. The birthday marked a profound change in Duo; he had grown more thoughtful, more pensive, though he was careful to seem the same cheerful, carefree Duo. But he wasn't. He was lonely, and the way his siblings' love lives were blossoming just aggravated that loneliness. Seeing Trowa with Quatre… the way they just _clicked_, their friendship, their mutual respect, the warmth of love in their eyes, their tenderness, all those times Duo saw them holding hands under the dinner table when they thought no one could see… It was beautiful, and it was hard to look at without wanting. Relena and Heero were like that, too. They didn't have the convenience of a perfect soulmatch,but they liked and loved and respected each other enough to work for their relationship.

Duo had never seriously thought he might be alone in his life, but for a while he gnawed at the possibility. He tried to reject it as impossible, but all he could see was the evidence. All his life, people had spoken of his beauty, had praised or hated him for how he looked. Not one of those people had ever talked to him to discover what kind of person he was. No one _cared_.He knew that he could live alone if he had to. But oh God, how he dreaded the thought.

At night, when no one could see him close his eyes to ward off the raw and painful emotions, he tried to work through what he felt. He was supposed to be happy out here in the country. The work wasn't awful, the farm girls didn't bother him anymore well, not that much, anyway and he was free from those stifling bards. Nevertheless, he was frustrated and lonely. He wanted someone to love him the way Trowa loved Quatre, the way Relena loved Heero.

But it just didn't look likely.

In the bright sunshine, hacking away at the crops in the field, his pain seemed ridiculous. Adolescent. After all, he had his family, didn't he? And they loved him, he never for a moment doubted that. But his emotions refused to be dismissed by such logic, so Duo worked past and around them, until sometimes he could fool himself into thinking that he'd never longed for a lover's embrace. Sometimes he really was that cheerful, handsome boy everyone saw when they looked at him. He wouldn't burden his family with his selfish yearning.

So time passed, as time had a habit of doing, and soon enough, Duo's seventeenth birthday dawned.


	4. Chapter III

**The Ice Prince: Chapter III**  
by Meiran Chang

On Duo's seventeenth birthday, Dorlian received a letter that told him of a ship arriving at Libra Port in White Fang. There was no return address and the letter was unsigned. The merchant was wary at first, but once he read it, all rationality fled him. _"The ship holds a precious cargo,"_ said the letter, in crabbed, hasty handwriting. _"You can make your fortune once more!"_

Dorlian was ecstatic and at once made preparations for the long journey to the heart of Oz. After the initial shock of losing his fortune had worn off, Dorlian had tried, for his children, to appear content. However, heremained dissatisfied with their simple life and jumped at this chance to return to the city. Quatre, Relena and Duo tried reasoning with him, telling him that he had no idea from where or whom the letter had come, but their father was deaf to their protests, and eventually they gave up and helped him pack.

Neither Quatre nor Duo believed that anything would come of the letter, though Relena cherished a hopeful belief that their father would find something of worth. The cottage whirled with activity as the three of them prepared their father with clothing, food, and other necessities, tucking in little trinkets they had made themselves. "We're doing this for contingency, you understand," Quatre had told Duo as he crammed a woodcut into a bulging leather pack. "This letter is some trickster's idea of a fine prank, and Father will have to sell all he can in the city to buy provisions for the road home." Duo had nodded ruefully. Then, because Quatre was occupied, Duo had gone out to ready their only horse, a grayish mare named Wing. Worked far too hard for far too long, the mare was only halfway decent, but she was easy to work with and did try her best.

It took about a week for Quatre to repair their dilapidated old cart, bartering furiously for paint, wood, and wheels, but finally everything was ready for their father's journey. The evening before he left, Dorlian asked his children what they would have.

"A new dress," Relena said decisively, her blue eyes shining with excitement and hope. She plucked at her own dress, a drab, tired thing. "I've a grand total of three dresses and a few pairs of pants and shirts. A change of clothing would be so nice. I'd also like some velvet and silk cloths please, no more corduroy or gingham! and a new sewing kit, or at least replacements for some things I'm missing from the old one…" She continued on in this vein for some time before winding down and allowing Quatre to take the floor.

After a thoughtful silence, Quatre shrugged and said, "If Khushrenada's got anything new out, I'd like that. Or, um... if you can find an instrument by Quinze, on sale... Either way, Father, it'll cost you," he warned, as his father brimmed over with joy and assured him that cost would be no problem.

Duo was actually in the next room, folding laundry --the needs of the household did not conveniently cease while Dorlian prepared to leave -- so Dorlian peeked in the door. "Beauty?" he called brightly as he ventured in.

"Wrong guy, I'm Duo," the boy muttered absentmindedly as he folded a sweater Relena had knit and put it on the top of a pile of folded clothing. He frowned for a moment, looked hard at the sweater, then snatched it back and glanced at his father. "Do you think we packed enough sweaters?" he asked, his brows knitting together as he rose and pressed the sweater into Dorlian's hands. "It's close to wintertime, and what if a blizzard gets you? You'll _freeze_, that's what, unless you've got forty layers of sweaters on. Do you know how cold the winters get around here? I was talking with Heero the other day and he warned me that it can get _cold_ here during the winter, I mean you know it gets cold during winter but he said _really_ seriously cold --"

The man suppressed a chuckle at his son's nervous rambling and draped the proffered sweater over one arm, then raised his free hand, cutting off Duo's stream of words. The youth sank into his chair and picked up another garment, folding it automatically. "There's no need to be so anxious," Dorlian assured his son, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Wing's a good horse, if a mite tired out, and there aren't supposed to be any blizzards for a good month yet."

"But it's still a possibility. And a number of other things could happen to you as you run off chasing rainbows. There could be bandits, or robbers, or wolves, or the cart could break down, or Wing could lame herself," Duo insisted, his gaze fixed on the garments he was mechanically folding. Then, in one of his mercurial mood changes, he looked up at his father with a heartrending expression in his eyes. "Father, I don't like the idea of you haring off into the wilderness on the say-so of an anonymous letter. You're my father and I don't want you hurt!"

"Duo, don't get yourself wrought up over such silly possibilities," Dorlian returned lightly. "Nothing will happen to me. Anyway, I came here to ask you what you want from White Fang. I already asked your older sibs."

Duo raised an eyebrow. "What I want, huh?" He stopped working for a moment, evidently giving the question great consideration. "You know, that's the first time in a long time anyone's asked me that." Before the merchant could respond, Duo continued. "There's nothing I really _want_, you know, other than your safe, healthy, sane arrival. I'm happy here…" He laughed a little. "I'd be happy with a weed."

His father looked at him with brows raised. "A... _weed_?"

"What, too expensive?" Duo said sardonically.

Dorlian shook his head. "If you want a plant, you'll have the king of plants. A rose," he said firmly.

Duo shrugged. "If it's black."

Dorlian chuckled. "To match your clothes?"

The braided boy smirked.

At sunrise the next morning, Duo and his siblings gathered outside to bid their father farewell. Quatre checked the cart one last time and pronounced it as good as it was going to get. Relena wrung her hands, and Duo continued trying to persuade his father to stay, until finally Dorlian decided he had stalled enough and, with a smile and a wave, left for White Fang.

Duo watched his father disappear into the distance until he could no longer pretend that the speck on the horizon was Wing and her glad cargo. Then he allowed himself a rueful sigh -- this ordeal was provoking a lot of those --and went back to the cottage to tend to the remainder of the last day's laundry.


	5. Chapter IV

**The Ice Prince: Chapter IV  
**by Meiran Chang

The two-week journey to White Fang over inhospitable terrain passed quickly, Dorlian's breathless hopes sustaining him. He passed through the marvel of a Capital in a hurry until the smell of seawater and the no-nonsense shouts of sailors told him he had arrived at Libra Port. Near bursting with anticipation, he checked in with the Shipmaster, but discovered that the ship he had so eagerly awaited carried a cargo worthless to him. He'd dealt mostly in foreign jewels and luxury cloths; spices were not in his venue. 

Greatly saddened and not a little angry, Dorlian returned to the central city stables to fetch Wing, looking wistfully at all the shops and stalls he passed, wishing terribly that he had been able to buy his children at least one gift. He would be forced to return home as poor as the moment he left, and the thought did not sit well in his stomach. Not only had Dorlian truly desired to become as wealthy as he had once been, he felt that his children were not getting half the education they deserved, and he felt guilty about what he was sure was a disappointment to them. He grieved for their futures.

Trusting the letter had been a mistake. He reflected on this as he sold the odd little trinkets Quatre had packed for him and bought provisions for the trip home. What had he been thinking, galloping off because of an anonymous letter? His children had known better. Yet somehow, Dorlian didn't think they'd be very angry with him. Oh, they'd have their round of 'I told you so's', but they would understand why he had done it, why he'd had to.

As Wing trotted quietly back through the countryside, Dorlian reflected on his children, and his estimation of them climbed ever higher. Their loyalty and wisdom was a blessing. Take, for example, the way they had adapted so uncomplainingly to the farm. Why, they even seemed to like it. Duo, Dorlian knew, much preferred the farm to the city -- the young man made no secret of how relieved he was now that the girls let him be. Quatre enjoyed being able to work his physical muscles as well as those of his mind, reckoning that the experiences of the farm would round him out until he was in no danger of becoming one of White Fang's obese scholars. Relena took everything in stride as she had always done. Dorlian's children would be the support of his old age, and even if he wouldn't die in luxury, he would die with them. Wasn't that what was really important, anyway?

As the journey drew to an end, Dorlian entered a large pine forest. He felt a little ashamed at the grief which had come over him in the city and looked forward to returning to his cottage. His thoughts became filled with resignation and a quiet contentment, but distracted as he was, he missed an important turn. He became disoriented, then lost, forcing Wing through unfamiliar ground in an attempt to regain his bearings. But he had never seen this part of the forest. Come to think of it, he had never seen this forest, period….

Snow began drifting down, slowly at first, coating the moss underfoot and the pine branches with a delicate fringe of white. Soon, though, the snow began coming down in earnest, wind whipping it into Dorlian's face. Wing's footing became unsteady, and the wind grew so strong and violent that twice he had to grip her mane or risk being flung right off his seat. Darkness drew over the forest until he could scarcely see a few feet in front of him, and Dorlian grew fearful for his life. He tried to squint through the whirling snow to see whether there was any possible shelter, and at least three times he was certain he heard wolves howling. _I'll die of cold or the wolves will get me,_ he thought.

Finally, through the storm and the tall trees he could see a light. It glowed in fierce defiance, and Dorlian dismounted, knowing he would have to walk to keep warm. He freed Wing from the restraints of the cart, since the cart had nothing much in it anyway, and led Wing through the knee-deep drifts, each step making his muscles burn. He knew that he had to reach that warm light or die.

Soon he drew close enough to see that the light came from an expansive manor. Dorlian was too exhausted to gasp out his astonishment, and the urgent cold prickling through his clothing told him that he had better check and see if the house's master would give him shelter. Swallowing bravely, he gathered his courage, made certain that Wing was with him, and stumbled with her through the gateway and into the empty courtyard. Once inside, Wing slowed down and could not be persuaded to move faster than a slow, heavy walk. A glance to his right showed Dorlian where he could put his horse for the night, and he led the exhausted mare to a large stable. Pleased, he untacked Wing and made certain of her comfort before leaving and cutting quickly across the courtyard, entering the house.

There was no one inside, which he thought decidedly odd. The stone manor was furbished as beautifully as his old mansion in White Fang had been, with rich wall hangings and plush, ankle-deep carpeting. As Dorlian wandered through the manor, calling out occasionally for the house's master, he thawed, dripping water everywhere.

No one answered his calls, and at last, Dorlian reached a large room decorated in muted blues and grays. It was beautiful in its simplicity, and the merchant gazed at it appreciatively before his nose alerted him to the presence of something else in the room: a table full of food and set for one person, right before him. His mouth watered and his head felt light as the tantalizing smell of hot food wafted to him.

_I can't possibly eat this. The master of this house must be expecting someone._ Still, Dorlian's stomach growled without respect for proper etiquette. Rather than eat, he decided to sit in front of the fire and finish warming up. _Certainly whoever this mansion belongs to won't mind terribly if I stay here tonight, _he thought_. He'll probably arrive soon and then I can explain myself and ask for his hospitality._

He was warm and comfortable soon enough and cast about a dozen longing looks towards the table in the space of a minute, his stomach rumbling more and more insistently. Still he put up a virtuous resistance until a clock somewhere in the house struck twelve. Deciding that if the master of the house hadn't wanted him here, steps would have been taken to remove him, Dorlian gave in and helped himself to the food on the table. When his hunger was appeased, he drank a small glass or two of wine, which made him quite drowsy.

Though sleepy, Dorlian remembered his manners and did his best to return the room to the state it had been in before he entered. He stepped back and regarded his work before deciding it was the best he could do, then began wandering through the house again, hoping to find a place to sleep.

Every corridor he passed through held furnishings worthy of royalty, making Dorlian wonder just who it was who dwelt here. There were no portraits on the walls, which was rather strange; he'd never been in a mansion where the owner did not have his illustrious ancestors prominently displayed. There weren't even any mirrors.

At the end of one massive hallway, he found a large bedroom with a huge sapphire canopy bed, on top of which were piled large, inviting down quilts. The sight of it was too much for the exhausted man, who stripped and flung himself into the bed, squirreling beneath the soft quilts and cool satin sheets, his eyes closing almost at once.


	6. Chapter V

**The Ice Prince: Chapter V  
**by Meiran Chang

Dorlian slept well and awoke around midday. He rose and opened the shutters; the sun was glittering over the fallen snow, and birds were chirping again. The manor had weathered the storm rather better than he had, and he spared a thought for Wing, hoping she wouldn't have too difficult a time plowing through the drifts later that day. Then he turned from the window to look for his clothing and was quite startled to discover that his old garments had been replaced by new ones, far more durable and suited to winter weather than the old. To add to this largesse, a magnificent breakfast awaited him on the night table, and Dorlian ate like a king before returning the tray to its place.

Dressed in his new clothes, he managed to find his way outside. Dorlian found the stables quickly enough and checked on Wing, who was fully rested and ready to ride. He readied her gently and led her out to the courtyard.

The courtyard looked marvelous. An iron fence with intricate designs that reached a story or so high surrounded the manor. Trees arched languidly over him, and he could hear liquid birdsong and occasionally even see one of the bright singers. Somewhere he could hear the gurgling of a small stream. Bright spots of color splashed the area all around the path, and there were roses sprinkled everywhere. It was odd enough that the garden was so alive and healthy in the wintertime; it was odd that the roses lived; it was odder still that every rose was black.

Remembering his youngest son, he reached up and carefully picked one rose off the archway he was passing under, mindful of the thorns. As he fingered one of the soft ebony petals, a small smile touched his lips. At least one of his beloved children would have a gift.

Suddenly Dorlian had the prickly feeling of _presence_, of someone approaching him from behind. The courtyard quickly lost its tranquility as he whirled around. Wing shied, the whites visible all around her eyes, and reared up, then pivoted sharply and fled. It took all the merchant had not to do the same as he clutched the rose so tightly the thorns cut into his flesh.

A Beast.

Outfitted in a bizarre mockery of Oz royal dress, the Beast's long, sleek black hair poured silk-like over its broad shoulders. Tall and carelessly muscular, sunlight glinted off impossibly sharp claws. Its face was like a panther's, darkly furred, its inhuman eyes a crystalline blue with narrow black slits for pupils. Its economy of movement translated into a terrible predatory grace, and Dorlian trembled as it tilted its head and calmly surveyed him.

"You miserable wretch," the Beast softly, almost without inflection. Somehow, that controlled voice was more frightening than any wild roar, and the merchant's heart nearly stopped. "I saved your life by allowing you into _my_ manor, feeding you with _my_ food, warming you by _my_ fire and clothing you in _my_ clothes. Is this any way to show your host how grateful you are? By stealing like a common thief?" The curl of the Beast's lip showed its contempt. 

"I -- I -- " Dorlian stammered. "I -- I'm sorry -- I -- I didn't -- "

The creature regarded him with hard eyes. "I nurtured that rose from seed to blossom myself. In this lonely, forsaken place, she and her sisters were my only companions. And you plucked the life from her, as thoughtlessly as you would clap a fly between your hands..." The creature's eyes narrowed, and Dorlian forgot to breathe."A poor move, merchant. That rose's life meant more to me than yours."

Dorlian's knees buckled beneath him. "Please, please, sire, don't kill me!" A distant corner of his mind focused more on honor than survival was indignant at this groveling, but somehow, Dorlian couldn't find it in him to care. "I didn't think you'd be offended, good lord, as you were so kind as to allow me into your home. I only picked this rose for my son, who wanted one dreadfully." His brown eyes, dark with fear, nevertheless bored into the uncaring blue of the Beast's. "Please, sire, I meant you no harm. I never imagined that by taking a rose I would upset you. If I'd known, I would never have taken it! All I wanted to do was bring a gift home to my son!"

The Beast frowned at the merchant, making him cringe. "'Sire'? Don't call me that. I am a Beast. You don't need to mince words." The creature sighed as if bored or weary. "You have a son? An only son, or have you more children?"

The merchant assured the Beast that he had, in fact, three progeny.

The Beast quirked a small, bitter smile. "Here, then, is how I will forgive you your crime. Bring me your youngest son. He can die in your place. He must, however, come willingly. Should he refuse, return to me in three months." The face of the monster grew as impassive and implacable as that of any statue. "I will know whether the youth is of your blood or not, so do not attempt to trick me. And do not think to avoid my punishment. I reach out far to strike those who have wronged me."

There was no way Dorlian would ever allow this terrible Beast to kill his favorite child, his beautiful Duo. Gladly would he offer up his life in place of his son's. "Of the rose?" Dorlian blurted out, immediately cursing himself for the irrelevance of such a question.

The Beast shrugged, a precise gesture. "She is dead. Bring her to your son. Perhaps he will enjoy her beauty as much as I did." He looked down on the merchant without emotion. "And stop groveling. Get up and find your horse."

Dorlian rose on shaky knees, his heart pounding. "I promise you I will return, my lord Beast. I am a man of honor."

"The day grows old, merchant." The Beast glanced at him once more from his lofty height, then turned and walked away, his walk the lithe stalk of a wolf at the hunt.


	7. Chapter VI

**The Ice Prince: Chapter VI**_**  
**_by Meiran Chang

Dorlian let Wing set her own pace as they made their way back to the cottage. The only reason he'd even found Wing was because in the mare's hurry to flee, she'd gotten her reins tangled in a thorny bush just outside the manor. At least she still allowed him to ride. Dorlian's thoughts were glum. 

He could see a small figure sitting in front of the cottage, watching the road, and from the way the setting sun glinted off golden hair, it had to be Quatre. The youth waved vigorously and rushed inside to fetch his siblings. As Dorlian and his still-skittish mount approached the place, Relena and Duo rushed out of the house to greet him, while Quatre helped him dismount and unobtrusively led Wing away.

Duo grabbed his father's hand and dragged him inside, talking animatedly the entire time about what he had missed when he'd been gone. Relena, far too dignified to indulge in such obvious excitement, forced a mug of hot drink into Dorlian's free hand. Duo sat his father down in the sitting room, and he and Relena took turns telling Dorlian everything that had transpired while he'd been gone, though Dorlian found it difficult to concentrate. After a little while, Quatre returned and kissed his father in welcome before stepping back and surveying the man with worry in his clear turquoise eyes.

"Be quiet, Duo," Quatre told the younger boy sternly, cutting off Duo's excited chatter. "Give him a chance to talk. Can't you see that Father isn't well?"

"Oh? Pardon _me_, dear older brother," Duo huffed, shooting his sibling a mock-injured look that Quatre bore stoically. The boy then looked quizzically at his father, who had only slumped in his chair. "Father? Is... uh..." Duo faltered a little. "Is something _really_ wrong?"

With a deep sigh, Dorlian handed his son the black rose that had brought him such grief. "Here is the rose you wanted, Duo. I have paid a terrible price for it."

As succinctly as possible the father told his children of the worthless cargo, the hidden manor and the Beast's impossible demand. The room was silent. Relena fidgeted nervously, Quatre bit his lip, and Duo was uncharacteristically still, looking down at the rose lying in his hands. His long bangs shadowed his eyes.

The young man touched his rose and looked up. "You don't have to die, Father," he said. A small black petal drifted to the floor as Duo fixed his father with an unreadable expression. "I'm going in your place. Willingly. Happily. Tap-dancing, even. The Beast will love me." He cracked a tiny smile.

His father's jaw dropped open and Duo had the dubious pleasure of seeing his father sputter. "No -- most _certainly_ not, Duo. You're my youngest son! You're only seventeen years old! How can I let you go into that evil monster's hands?" The man stood up and glared down at his son. "How can you even _consider_ such a foolhardy thing? Throwing away your life for one foolish old man? Losing the last few years of my life won't --"

"Father," Duo interrupted softly, leaning forward, "listen to me, and listen to me carefully. First of all, I have been an adult ever since I left White Fang and took on the responsibilities of a household; I am capable of making my own decisions. And second of all, you cannot and _will _not leave this house without me." He laughed a bit, as if the thought were ridiculous by virtue of existence. "If you try to leave at night, your noise will wake me, and I will follow you. I'll wake if you try to tie me up. I already rise with the dawn, so that option's out. Father, I will not allow you to be killed if I can do something about it, and from what I hear, I'm the _only_ person who has _any_ sort of power to change this situation!"

Duo's voice had risen with his conviction. As Dorlian knew from experience, Duo was unrelentingly stubborn when the mood seized him, a trait he shared with his siblings. As he looked at Duo in miserable silence, Duo stood, the rose falling lightly to the floor, and took Dorlian's hands in his own. "You are my father," he said, voice low and intense. "I love you. I'd rather die at the Beast's hands than know my inaction doomed you to an early grave." Duo paused for a moment, then added, "I'm going tomorrow."

There was a beat of stricken silence before Quatre, Relena, and his father all began arguing with him at once, appealing to his good sense and playing shamelessly on the fear he had to be feeling. All their arguments were in vain. Duo refused to change his mind.

His father tucked Duo in and kissed him goodnight for the first time in nine years, and the family went to sleep that night with heavy hearts. Duo only lay in bed until dawn came, listening to the familiar sounds of his night like crickets chirping and Quatre snoring and trees crying in the wind.


	8. Chapter VII

**Th****e Ice Prince: Chapter VII**_**  
**_by Meiran Chang

The morning dawned cold and foggy. Duo dressed in his best, a simple black Shinigami-priest's outfit with gold trim. Relena braided his long chestnut hair herself, choking back tears at the thought that this was the last time she would ever see her brother.

When Duo remarked wryly that he felt like a victim being prepared for sacrifice, it was all she could take, and she dissolved into hysterical tears of grief. A chagrined Duo embraced her. "Hey, don't feel too bad," he pleaded, looking up into her face with worry written on his fine features. "Please?" He kissed her cheek and hugged her again, rocking her gently. "I'm so sorry it all turned out like this. If it's any help, I think you're the best sister I could ever have asked for, okay? Heero's a damn lucky guy. I'll miss you, sister. I love you."

Relena managed to stop crying with great effort and nodded tremulously, mustering a tentative smile. Duo patted her on the shoulder. Then Quatre turned away, one hand still on Wing's reins, blinking away his own tears. Duo rushed over, his expression halfway between tears and laughter.

"God, you guys are really going to miss me, aren't you?" he managed to say.

Quatre could only nod, and Duo hugged his brother tightly. "I love you, Quatre. You are truly the best, the most understanding and kindest older brother I could have had. Don't you _ever_ forget how much I love you. And don't cry," Duo finished, reaching up with a slender finger to wipe away one of his brother's tears. "Boys don't cry."

Quatre exhaled shakily, and his younger brother smiled sadly at him, saying nothing more.

Tears streamed from Dorlian's eyes though the man said nothing about them, and in his turn, Duo acknowledged them only with a reassuring hug. The merchant mounted Wing, guilt and grief making it difficult for him even to breathe. To her credit, Wing seemed to sense what an excruciatingly painful parting this was and behaved impeccably, staying very still as Quatre formed a step with his hands. With that boost, Duo swung up onto Wing's back and put his arms around his father's waist. Wasting no more time, they rode off. As they disappeared into the distance, Quatre and Relena tried and failed to keep back tears once more.

Though Duo had acted cheerful and even cavalier about the entire ordeal, he felt just as miserable as his siblings, and the one thing that prevented him from bawling like a child was the knowledge that his tears would only make matters worse. Yet now, every time Wing's hooves touched the ground, he saw the image of a fearsome, wild-furred Beast rise before him, drool dripping from its fangs, claws extended menacingly, and he felt the pain of razor-sharp teeth tearing through his skin. His terror made his hands sweat and his heart pound, and he closed his eyes, trying to control his shivers.

He hoped Quatre and Relena and his father would be all right without him. Love for them surged through him. He hoped they wouldn't wear themselves out mourning for him God knew he'd been a right brat a lot of the time! He wanted to be remembered fondly, not with sonnets of his beauty or spates of grief. Laughter was so much better than tears. Too much grieving wore a body out. He would have told his father that, but felt too frozen to speak.

"We're almost there, Duo," said his father quietly, and with a start Duo returned to reality. It was already night, and they were deep in an ancient forest where huge trees reached out to block the sky. "Do you see that bright light over there? That's _his_ manor." Considering the circumstances, his father's voice was quite calm.

He could indeed see the light and steeled himself with a deep breath, sitting up straighter in the saddle. Whatever happened, he would face it bravely, with the knowledge that he was saving his father from death.

Though Wing didn't seem disposed to enter the eerily silent courtyard, Dorlian persuaded her in, and he and Duo dismounted. They both led the gray mare into the stable. Duo was quiet as his father tended to her. When Dorlian had finished, he took Duo's hand in his own. Though the times when Duo had needed to be led around by hand were long past, Duo allowed his father this last scrap of comfort, and they both entered the manor. Dorlian, who had a merchant's perfect memory, was able to recall the exact location of the blue-and-gray room where he had eaten just the other night.

The table was set for two. _He wants to fatten me up before he eats me,_ came the inevitable whisper in his mind, and Duo shook his head fiercely, trying to ignore the thought.

The rich fare lodged in Duo's throat. He simply couldn't eat and finally folded his hands in his lap, not trusting his voice to say anything, staring blankly at nothing. His father seemed to have no difficulty eating, but then again, he wasn't the one going to his death, was he?

Immediately Duo berated himself for the uncharitable thought; he was here of his own free will. And that was when the Beast arrived.

There was no warning -- no thundering footsteps, no ominous squeak of a rusty door hinge, no flashes of lightning outside. One moment the room contained only himself and his father, and the next moment there was the Beast. His father had not exaggerated the power of the Beast to terrify, and Duo tried not to look at the monster. He was frozen by fear, and his heart resumed the wild thudding it had proved itself capable of on the way here.

He panicked when he felt a gloved hand touch his chin and shot backwards in his chair, sending it skidding backwards and tumbling from the seat. He landed hard, but after a few silent moments of struggle, he managed to sit up, propping himself up with his arms. His entire body was rigid. Duo stared up at the Beast in terror, and the Beast stared at him, unreadable, for one infinite moment.

The Beast broke the spell by asking him whether he had come of his own free will. Duo managed to nod jerkily.

"Thank you," the Beast said. His voice was deep and low. "You have a kind heart and a brave spirit. I am glad you decided to come."

Duo didn't answer, though he thought, _At least one of us feels that way._

The Beast looked at him for a moment longer, then turned to his father, the glacial-blue of its eyes hard. "Say your good-byes tonight, Sir. You shall not see this place again. You leave tomorrow morning." The Beast glanced towards Duo, and was it just his imagination, or did that cold inscrutable blue warm just the slightest bit? "Goodnight, then, Beauty," it said softly, before padding off into the darkness.

"G-Goodn-night," Duo stammered after it. Then the name the Beast had called him registered in his mind, and somehow, the thought of the Beast as one of those idiot courtiers at White Fang, complete with the notorious Dekim feather-in-cap, struck him as intensely funny. He started chuckling, then laughing, doubled over, and if his laughter was slightly hysterical, who could blame him?


	9. Chapter VIII

**The Ice Prince: Chapter VIII**  
by Meiran Chang

That night, Duo dreamed of a raven-haired boy with serious black eyes, dressed in pure white robes. "I admire and commend your bravery," the boy told Duo. For all the youth of his features, there was nothing young about those uptilted eyes. "So I came to tell you, do not worry. You needn't fear the Beast."

"How do you know?" Duo asked, voice ringing softly in the eldritch voids of his dream.

The solemn boy actually smiled, and Duo realized that he had wings, powerful and beautiful like a dragonfly's. "Trust me," he said. "The Beast will only do you good. Now awake."

And Duo woke.

The dream lingered in his mind through breakfast. It did make him feel a bit better about his situation, and he made certain to tell his father of it in the Dining Hall. Though Dorlian was comforted a little, the dream did not prevent him from weeping bitterly as he bid his son goodbye.

Dorlian's misery was infectious. As comforting as the dream had been, it was only a dream, and his father's anguish was real. Soon, Duo was fighting off tears, feeling helpless, alone, and frightened. The Beast was a terrifying mystery, and surely a monster who'd sent his father away from him would have no problem eating him for dessert!

He collapsed in an armchair and put his face in his hands, sick with dread. Grim scenarios played out in his head, each darker than the one before it, and he had to struggle to pull himself together, countering his imagination with what logic he could muster. Hadn't he told Quatre that boys didn't cry? He couldn't start sobbing now, and besides, sniffling about how scared he was wouldn't help anyway, not if the Beast really wanted to eat him.

The which fact, he reminded himself, remained unconfirmed. _Hold to that. _The creature hadn't seemed very hungry last night, hadn't concealed drool or pinched Duo's cheek to see how plump he was. The Beast had been calm and collected, quite a contrast to Duo's mute fear.

And when he spoke to Duo, his voice had been kind. So there was hope, wasn't there? _"The Beast will only do you good,"_ said the dragonfly boy of his dreams, and until he had proof otherwise, Duo would trust that the words were true.

The pale light from the window caught his attention, and Duo crossed the room and pushed the heavy curtain further aside, resting an elbow on the windowsill and looking out at the flowering courtyard beyond. How a courtyard could flower in the middle of winter was beyond him, but it was certainly beautiful. Perhaps the Beast was a gardener. 

He entertained himself briefly by wondering what occupations the Beast could possibly have. Singer? Intrigued by the thought, he followed it a bit further. Certainly that voice was melodious enough for it. And though those claws were dreadful, if retracted or trimmed, they might be able to handle instruments. How exactly _would_ one go about trimming claws -- saws? Machetes? Scythes?

Duo didn't even stop to wonder when he had stopped thinking of the Beast as "it" but instead got up to run through the manor at lightning speed, just for the thrill of racing through a Beast's mansion.

As he ran, he glimpsed a door marked "Beauty's Room." Curiosity sparked, Duo screeched to a halt and regarded the door warily. The door _looked_ innocent enough, but the Beast was so obviously a magical being that Duo would give even so innocuous an object as a door second thoughts.

Then again, thought Duo, the Beast seemed a person less than fond of deceit. After all, wasn't that why his father had gotten in trouble in the first place, for stealing that thrice-damned rose?

So Duo opened the door and stepped over the threshold.

To his surprise, a massive library greeted him, lined with bookcases. Duo could only gawk. There weren't this many books in White Fang University! He wandered through the place, dazed, and nearly stumbled over what was clearly to be his "bedroom." It was a tidy corner of the library, complete with a half-curtained window that let in the pale golden sunlight, a plush bed done up in scarlet with an elaborate headboard, a night table with a chest of drawers beside it, and a wardrobe built into the wall. On the bed, resting on their cases, were a lute, a twelve-stringed gittern, and a flute -- Duo inspected them, they were all by the master Quinze -- as well as several slim books on music. Dazzled, Duo glanced at the night table, on which lay a charcoal-stick and several sheets of paper. Thank God he'd still be able to compose. Carefully he shut the precious materials in one of the empty drawers and laid the instruments in their cases, then slid them under the bed.

There was even a mirror on the wall next to the wardrobe, and Duo glanced at himself, his feckless cheer fading. The mooncalf minstrels of White Fang had driven him insane, and for what? For the love of God, he was just a boy! He wished White Fang had sung songs about his wits, or his music, or his horsemanship. Not his stupid face. Of course, though, nobody cared about any of that, not when he had big ol' eyes with huge long girly eyelashes for poets to rhapsodize about. Bastards, all of them. He frowned deeply, but the glitter of gold atop the mirror distracted him. He stood on tip-toe -- damn his height -- and read under his breath, _"Your wish is my command, for you are prince and master here."_

Duo blinked, impressed despite himself. "Interesting," he murmured, but his lips twisted as he turned away. "But you cannot bring me my father, kind mirror."

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sparkles. He turned back, and his jaw unhinged as pink and purple motes of light drifted lazily across the surface. He yelped and leapt back a full two feet; when the mirror did nothing more threatening than continue to twinkle, Duo's heartbeat slowed, and he couldn't help but laugh at himself. Sparkles, egad.

He re-approached the mirror with cautious curiosity. The rubies and sapphires on its golden frame glittered prettily. "Don't… do anything strange," he warned it. Then the reality of how ridiculous he must look, talking to a mirror, registered. He put his face in his hands and tried not to scream.

_This is all so mind-numbingly stupid. Why am I in this situation? Why am I in this enchanted manor with a Beast who gives me presents? Why am I not at home, putting the laundry away? Why am I talking to a MIRROR?_

He could feel a headache coming on and picked up his head again. After all, he was here; he wasn't going to get out any time soon, and he had to accept that. Now, this mirror… Well, he could put two and two together as well as any idiot. The writing on the mirror said that his wish was its command; Duo had said he wanted to see his father; the mirror was probably chewing the request over. So, the mirror was magical. Magical, and stupid. And slow. Excellent, he really needed magical objects right now on top of everything else. Duo sat down on the edge of his bed, feeling sour, and watched the mirror's sparkles fade dramatically.

The jewels on the frame continued glittering in the sparkles' absence, and in the glass was a vision of Wing's hooves picking their way across a rocky stretch of road.

"That's not my father," Duo told the mirror flatly.

Blush-pink sparkles blossomed across the mirror's surface. Once they faded, the view panned out until Duo could see his father on Wing's back. The merchant's face was lined with grief, and his nut-brown eyes were dark with pain. His shoulders drooped, his brown hair was limp against his head, and even Wing seemed to clop along heavily.

A knot formed in Duo's throat as he stared at his beloved father. This was not fair -- not to him, and not to his father. It took two tries before he got his voice to work satisfactorily.

"That's… enough," he told the mirror hoarsely. "Thank you…."

The mirror obediently went blank, tiny white sparkles glimmering cheerfully all over its surface.

With an explosive sigh, Duo fell back onto the bed, which was soft and comfortable. He crossed his arms behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. A magnificent chandelier hung in the middle of it. For a while, he watched the light reflecting off the candleholders' diamonds and thought.

What did all of this mean? 'Beauty's Room' on the door, and inside, this massive library, this cozy little corner, everything rich with comforts, with things he liked. The expensive instruments, the enchanted mirror -- even the clothing he was wearing now, which he'd found draped over a chair in the room he'd fallen asleep in. Come to think of it, actually, he'd fallen asleep in the dining room, too scared to get up and find a place to rest. He'd woken to the sound of birdsong in the softest bed he'd ever encountered, sunlight shining in through unfamiliar curtains. In the morning, he hadn't noticed that because he was miserable, but now that he thought of it, the only rational explanation was that the Beast had carried him there. But then, why would the Beast have carried him _there_, and not _here_, where Duo was clearly meant to sleep from here on in? Did that mean the Beast wanted him to find this room himself?

Was this room a _gift_? Could it be that the Beast possibly meant well?

Was it possible that the Beast didn't want to eat him after all?

A rush of hope swept through him, and the diamonds on the candleholders twinkled.


	10. Chapter IX

**The Ice Prince: Chapter IX**  
by Meiran Chang

After a few minutes, Duo got up and started exploring the mansion properly. He figured he should familiarize himself with his surroundings or he'd get lost, which would be uncomfortable and embarrassing. Besides, the manor had more than enough in it to hold his attention. He took off his slippers and held the pair of them in his hand as he wandered around, enjoying the feel of the plush carpet on his bare feet. The walls of the hallways had thick tapestries hanging from them, depicting peaceful things like a glittering lake bordered by white trees. There was the occasional suit of armor or display of weaponry, though it was rare. There were no likenesses of people. The windows were huge, giving a wonderful view of the gardens. It was all very quiet, with an old, wistful quality.

It was also fascinating. Some of the rooms were unbelievable. Duo could certainly understand the Beast's motivation -- if the stories about Beasts were true, and the Beast really did have to spend all of his time in this manor, no wonder he'd chosen to change a few things around. One chamber sparkled like the enchanted mirror in his room until Duo had to shield his eyes on his way out. Another was filled with exotic birds flying around freely, winging their way in and out of the open window whenever they had a mind to. Yet another one had wall tapestries which would show different absurd scenes depending on what pure pitch his voice reached, a trick he discovered when he stubbed his toe on the threshold and yelped in pain, and the picture of a castle on one of the tapestries dissolved into an image of a larger-than-life potato. When Duo realized he couldn't hear himself, he'd gone so high, he eased his way out of the room, grinning at the tapestry of a bear waltzing with a bathtub.

In due time Duo even found his way to the gardens. Gingerly pushing open the glass doors, he slid his feet back into his slippers and meandered down the paths. The slight chill didn't bother him, and the cool breeze was refreshing.

There were all kinds of plants growing beyond the short balustrades separating path from garden. The snow was splashed with bright bits of color, weeping willows shading the gardens from the worst of snow-glare. Duo could even spot black roses here and there -- all the more lovely when viewed in full, healthy, living bloom. He kneeled down next to a delicate cluster of them and touched one of their petals. He had never really paid much attention to flowers before -- in the city, they were usually dead or plastic, and in the country, he'd always been far too busy. Now, though, with absolutely nothing to do, he had the leisure to reach out and feel how soft the petals of a living rose were.

There was a multitude of butterflies. A particularly beautiful one patterned a majestic orange and black fluttered towards him, and Duo stayed still as the butterfly landed on his shoulder, antennae quivering against his cheek. It stayed for only a moment before passing on, but it was a good omen and made Duo smile. Other butterflies stayed amongst the flowers or in the great trees. The garden was springtime in the snow, the best of both worlds.

Sometime in the afternoon, Duo went back inside, his nose and cheeks red from the cold wind. Breathing the fresh air had done him some good and made him feel a lot more cheerful. It had also made him feel rather hungry, and he realized that he had had very little breakfast and that it was more than time for lunch. As the food he'd eaten the previous night hadn't gone down very well, he was looking forward to eating and _tasting_ the food. Considering the wealth of everything else in here, it was bound to be magnificent.

His bright mood dimmed briefly as he thought of Relena's cooking, which he would miss terribly, but he pushed the melancholy aside. He could not return to his home soon, and at any rate, he could always look at his family in the enchanted mirror. After a bit more wandering, Duo, to his pleasure, happened upon the Dining Hall.

He surveyed the food on the table critically, just to make sure that it hadn't been there for days. It looked fine, so he sat down and ate. Once done, he leaned back in his chair, satisfied. He hadn't had food that good since his twelfth birthday party back in White Fang when his father hired the king's chef. Pity about the birthday cake, though. After discovering who was responsible for the beheading of her doll Madeleine, Relena had pitched him into it….

His reminiscing faded as the sound of music permeated his consciousness. Duo strained to hear the faint melody, and his eyes widened as he recognized the strains of his and Quatre's favorite duet, Tokimeite Harmony, played with only flute and violin. He pushed his cushioned armchair back from the table and listened closely, homesick again. As the song reached its end, flute and violin falling silent, he closed his eyes.

It had been beautiful. Quatre would have loved it.

The music decided him it was unlikely that the Beast was going to eat him. The Beast had simply put too much effort into him. Giving him that massive library room, enchanting that mirror for him with a little note on top telling him he was 'prince and master,' giving him clothing and a comfortable bed, letting him crawl all over his mansion, letting him into the gardens, feeding him, and having his favorite song played him during lunch... not even sacrificial victims received that much attention.

Somehow Duo reached his room again, and he spent the remainder of the afternoon looking through it. There were books on every imaginable subject, his wardrobe was fit for a peacock king, and once he steeled himself, the enchanted mirror was a fun toy. He wandered through the aisles of the library which took up most of 'Beauty's Room' and drew out books with interesting titles. There were quite a few: 'Eloquence in War and Peace' and 'God's Perfect Soldier' by Treize Khushrenada, 'Machine' and 'Metal Savior' by Tubarov, 'Split in Two: An Autobiography' by Lady Une, 'My Stint as a Revolutionary' by, of all people, Quinze the instrument-maker, and 'Lone Healer' by Sally Po. He would have picked out 'Zero Visions' by Tranto and 'An Empire Mine' by Mariemaia Khushrenada-Barton, too, but by that time his arms were loaded -- the books were heavy -- and he figured that the volumes should be enough to keep him occupied for quite some time.

Duo returned to his little corner of the room and placed the books on the night table. Then he examined his wardrobe. One of his pet fascinations back in White Fang had been clothing and design -- well, until the bards became so annoying that he'd had to resort to a Shinigami priest's frock to try and make them go away -- and after his family had moved, he hadn't been able to indulge himself the way he'd have liked to.

The Beast, it seemed, was prepared to indulge him all he wanted. The variety of his wardrobe was dizzying: long robes he'd trip over if he ever wore, plaid and pinstriped bathrobes, zoot suits with padded shoulders, outrageous hats topped with feathers and fruits and stuffed birds and trimmed with ribbons and lace and all sorts of fripperies, capes and half-capes in every color of the spectrum, lavishly decorated tunics of silk, velvet, and cashmere in colors bright and dark and shimmering with narrow sleeves and wide sleeves and button cuffs, skirts (!) with petticoats, sleek shimmering skirts, skirts which swirled easily, skirts patterned with birds and flowers and blocky geometric figures, skirts that were solid blocks of color, miniskirts, pants (phew) with wide bottoms, loose pants, tight pants, just-right pants, pants which needed thoughtfully provided belts, pants with drawstrings, pants with suspenders, pants which rode low on his hips and pants which, when pulled up all the way, reached to halfway up his chest. There were even dresses. It was bewildering, as if the Beast weren't quite sure if Duo was a boy or a girl.

There were other accessories provided, too. Slippers lay beside stilettos, bandanas hung beside gloves, thick winter socks and skinny dress hose lay tangled in an amorous embrace, and in a massive velvet-lined box, Duo discovered enough jewelry to keep the court of White Fang happy for a year.

Amazed and delighted, he took nearly everything out of his closet and spent hours trying on his new wardrobe. For a laugh and because he was feeling mischievous, he even tried on some of the women's clothing included, complete with tiara and peacock-feather fan. He threw his braid over one shoulder, fluttered the fan, swirled his skirts around, and grinned -- he made a very believable girl -- as the mirror set his reflection off with pink and purple sparkles.

As amusing as it was disturbing, eventually he recognized the fact that he needed to put the clothing away or he'd end up sleeping on it, so covered was his bed by the apparel. The thought of ruining such marvelous clothing by rolling all over it -- the thought of even _wrinkling_ such wonderful garments -- was blasphemy to Duo, who went about putting the clothing away. Occasionally he would allow his fingers to linger over soft fabric or pause to admire an exceptionally lovely pattern, but he managed to discipline himself and got the clothing back in the wardrobe in a minimum of time.

After finishing the Herculean task of putting everything where he had found it, he folded the clothing he had chosen for the next month and put it in the chest of drawers. He wanted to put the next day's clothing on a chair near his bed for easy access, so he looked around and discovered that a rather plushy armchair had conveniently materialized to his left. He didn't waste time wondering where it had come from and instead quickly folded his clothes and put them on the armchair. Then he glanced outside the window.

The sky was bathed in a red and orange glory of a sunset. It looked like White Fang's famous Tropical Passion Fruit Punch. The food analogy brought his attention to the fact that he was hungry again, it having been several hours since lunch.

He asked the mirror where the Dining Hall was. Duo had grown quite fond of the enchanted mirror because it insisted on framing his reflection in sparkles color-coordinated with his outfit. The mirror sparkled obligingly and showed him a first-person view of the long corridor outside, then a turn to the right, then another long corridor, then a turn to the left, open the first door on the right, go through that room and open _that_ door, and there was the Dining Hall. Duo realized that he had eaten there when he arrived and that he'd eaten lunch there and that it was really shameful that he hadn't memorized its location by now.

"Er… could you run that past me one more time?" Duo asked, scratching the tip of his nose. "Don't think I quite caught it…"

The mirror sparkled happily and obliged. It took three more renditions before Duo was certain he had it all down. He thanked the mirror, which blossomed in the blush-pink sparkles Duo had come to interpret as its version of giggles, and went off on his way.


	11. Chapter X

**The Ice Prince: Chapter X**  
by Meiran Chang

Duo found the Dining Hall without too much trouble. As usual, the table had been mysteriously laid out, and Duo sat down to enjoy the meal. About halfway through his dinner, his sharp ears caught the sounds of a door opening somewhere and the pad of soft footsteps.

That was Duo's only warning. There was no thunder and lightning when the Beast appeared in the doorway, looking in almost timidly. Duo couldn't help but feel cheated, somehow. Where were the theatrics? Where was the roaring and posturing and ritual declamation?

The Beast stood in the doorway. Duo tried not to stare, and while he did his best to paste his gaze to his plate, another thought struck him: where was the feeling of terror that he very vividly recalled from his first encounter with the Beast? For a creature like a Beast, the power to induce fear was a constant, a power that had been amply demonstrated the first time he'd met him. So why could Duo even think at all at this point? Shouldn't he be frozen with fear by now? The Beast was being quiet. The Beast was looking at him! The silence was incredibly unnerving.

"May I?" the Beast finally asked, pointing with his chin towards the empty chair opposite Duo.

Wait. The Beast was asking _Duo_ if he could sit? This was the Beast's mansion, not Duo's. Awfully polite monster.

"It's your home," Duo finally replied, when the Beast didn't move but waited patiently. "But sure. Go ahead."

"Actually, I came here to talk about that." The Beast took his seat across the table from Duo, and Duo looked at him.

Now that Duo thought of it, the Beast wasn't really hideous. He was simply… non-human. It was satisfying to realize at last why the Beast had been so startling at first: because it was shocking to encounter something that was not quite animal and not quite human, but a curious meld of both. The Beast was a panther able to walk on two feet and speak as any normal human. He even possessed the same catlike grace, the elegance and strange nobility. Or perhaps it was just how faultlessly he moved. He wasted no energy on sloppy movements. Every gesture was exact….

The Beast cleared his throat. Duo started a bit, blinked, and realized that he had gotten lost in his thoughts and extended a glance to a stare. He flushed involuntarily as the Beast said, "I thought I would extend an invitation, as it were, for you to ask any questions. I know you must be curious about quite a few things." The Beast's casual tone gained a sardonic touch as he added, "I realize that my offer sounds ridiculous, particularly coming from me, but please, dismiss the incongruity."

Duo smiled brightly at him. "Better to ask than to let my thoughts swim around in my head like crazy goldfish. My imagination will be the death of me."

_Unless you're going to eat me, my strange Beastly fellow…._

He pushed away his half-finished plate of food and surveyed the Beast, who bore his regard calmly. Then Duo decided to out with it and address the most pressing issue: "So, are you going to eat me or not?"

His dinner companion actually chuckled, a low, silvery sound, and glanced down at the table. "Pure, cold realist, are you? No, I'm not going to eat you. You don't need to fear any harm from me. "

"That's a relief." Duo mimed wiping sweat from his brow and grinned. "Now I won't be scared of you going bump in the night. But why did you tell my father that?"

"First of all, I merely said that you would be dying in his place. Secondly, I don't like your father. He stole from me," came the blasé reply. "I wasn't lying when I told him I loved those roses. Why shouldn't he suffer as much as me?"

"Are you seriously implying that a rose counts as much as a son?" Duo asked, raising an eyebrow.

The Beast shrugged. "It might seem ridiculous to you, but I've been here for as long as you've been alive and I became very attached to them. When you're alone for that long, some deterioration in your psyche is inevitable. I realize it's… _ irregular_, but for me, yes, the roses count as much as children."

Duo frowned. "You could have told my father that instead of scaring him so badly. My siblings were in tears thinking that I'd be eaten. I felt like bawling myself. You really weren't very kind."

"But I was just," the Beast retorted. "It wasn't very kind of him to take my roses in the first place. I had given him everything he could possibly need for the night, and he had no reason to take anything from me that was not freely offered." The Beast folded his satin-gloved hands. "Believe me, in my situation, your temper would not be sweet at all, Beauty."

Duo nobly refrained from groaning, but couldn't stop himself from making a face. "Please," he pleaded.

His companion looked at him curiously. "You don't like that name?"

Duo shook his head vehemently. "It brings back lousy memories."

The Beast looked questioning. Duo sighed and elaborated. "I used to live in White Fang. The capital of Oz." He watched his companion closely to see if he would recognize the name, but the Beast's eyelids didn't even flicker, and Duo carried on. "Father was really prominent, so lots of people paid attention to him and his children. I was a typically cute kid, you know, all big-eyed and bumbling and insufferably curious from what I hear, but Relena and Quatre my older siblings they were the ones getting most of the attention. Relena's been a genius at persuading people to do things for her since she was, oh, three, and Quatre's a genius, period.

"Then I started growing up, puberty hit, I was fifteen, and all of a sudden, the city began to notice me." He made a wincing kind of face. "White Fang and its legions of poets decided that I was some legendary beauty. It was terrible. I couldn't walk a foot away from my house without being attacked by bards or women, and they either hated or adored me. It got to the point where I'd hide inside the house all day or become a complete snob in public. _Then _some genius actually started calling me --" Duo reddened defensively "-- 'Beauty.' It was so stupid and embarrassing."

To his surprise, the Beast didn't look at all bored. "Then what?" he prompted.

Duo shrugged. "Father did something bloody stupid and lost all our money, so we had to move to a farm on the border between Oz and Koelonye. I was happy there no poets, and --" here Duo grinned slyly "--the neighbors had a _very_ handsome son."

The Beast looked at him askance. "How fascinating."

Duo waved the look aside. "It was just a crush. He's gorgeous, lots more than everybody says I am. My my sister, Relena, she actually saw something in him. Heero's never really said too much to me, so, I don't know."

"Was there anyone else?" the Beast asked.

The Beast was taking this new information in stride, Duo noted. So it had been a good idea to test the waters. He nodded emphatically. "Oh, of course. My older brother Quatre has dibs on Trowa Bloom, who's no slouch. Absolutely beautiful green eyes, a really sweet smile, and he's so calm, I don't think anything can shake him. I used to dream about covering him in egg yolk and salt in his sleep just to see the look on his face when he woke up." He cackled. "It would have been great. But sixteen's a bit too old to get away with the 'boys will be boys' trick, at least in my father's eyes, so I never tried." His lips quirked in a brief smile. "I still kinda want to… Anyway, I really only paid attention to Heero and Trowa, even though there were lots of girls around." Might as well drive the point home. "_Lots_."

He stopped for a moment to drink some water, as his throat was getting dry.

"I enjoy hearing you talk," the Beast remarked as Duo drank. "You have a wonderful voice."

Duo put the goblet down and thanked him with a wink, then continued. "Okay, even though there were so many girls, and a lot of them liked me, I found that I never thought twice about them. Maybe it's just that the women back in White Fang traumatized me, but I don't really think so. It doesn't matter why, anyway. I don't have a problem with liking men. I don't think it's _indecent_… it's just a little different. It's the same thing with Mage-craft. Heero has the Mage-Gift, and he used to think he was cursed and forsaken because of it. But mages can't help their gifts, right? I don't see why anyone would hate mages, and I don't see why anyone would hate, you know, those like me. At least Oz is a little more enlightened about that sort of thing than some other countries."

The Beast nodded in complete agreement and commented, "You have a wise philosophy for someone so young; if more people adopted it, there would be less despair in the world."

Duo could hear the semicolon in the Beast's speech, which made him smile, but he didn't reply to the Beast's curiously cocked head and merely said, "Yes, I agree. People can be such idiots. Anyway, I still have a few more questions. This one's kinda stupid, really "

"Duo, I can do without the prologue."

"Right, right. Well, I'm curious about that mirror in my room. What is it really? What does it say? And why is it that half the clothing in my wardrobe there is for women?"

"Ah." His companion smirked a bit. "The women's clothing is there because I wasn't sure if you were a boy or a girl. That braid of yours…"

Duo did an exaggerated cringe. "Oh, ouch."

"Right," the Beast said dryly. "To answer your other questions, the mirror is an enchanted mirror, as you've obviously guessed, and I was the enchanter, as you probably surmised. Being a Beast, I'm of an inherently magical nature, so I've been using my Mage-Gift around the manor. You stumbled into the room with the pictures, am I correct?"

Duo grinned. "Yeah. Great work."

A ghost of a smile touched the Beast's lips. "Thank you… I would like to tell you that I made the mirror especially for you. It's keyed to your wishes, though I'm the only one who can trifle with the set-spell. I spent a very long time on it because magic drains me, since as a Beast, I can only use my personal energy. A true human mage doesn't have those limitations."

"The mirror's wonderful," Duo said warmly. "Thanks for spending so much time on it. Really, it's great. It's been very helpful."

His dinner companion nodded, once. "Did you decipher the colors?"

The colors of the glitter that sparkled crazily all over that mirror, Duo decided, was what the Beast must have meant. "Just the pink," Duo answered. "When it's pink, it's as if it's laughing or giggling."

"Right on the mark." The Beast looked at him approvingly. "Well, it sparkles white when it's exhausted, blue when it's being a stubborn idiot, purple when it feels mischievous, and black when it feels morbid, and it uses the rest of the spectrum interchangeably to set off the reflection or prove how cheerful it's feeling. The poor thing's a bit shallow, but adorable. Puppyish, really." The Beast's lips quirked in a small smile which revealed just the tip of short fangs. It was almost cute, and his smile felt like a reward. It didn't seem as though the Beast smiled much.

Duo smiled back and resisted the urge to say "thank you." Instead, he asked, "Now, what about those words on top?"

"_'Your wish is my command, for you are prince and master here,'_" the Beast recited. "This is unclear in what way?"

"Well, it just seems awfully… trusting…" Duo trailed off and tried again. "It's… Do you really mean it?"

"I don't lie, Duo." The glacial blue of the Beast's eyes was suddenly intense. "I carved those words with my own life-energy. I can assure you that they are neither idle flattery nor a joke. You can ask anything you want of me, and if it's in my power to give it to you, it's yours. You command here. I want you to be as content as possible."

"Oh," was all Duo could come up with in reply. "Thank you" hardly seemed sufficient to repay a trust of this magnitude. He wanted to ask why, but something, some warning and closed feeling he sensed from the Beast, stopped him.

"You must have more questions." The Beast cocked his head to one side invitingly.

"Yes, I do!" Duo seized gratefully upon the opening the Beast had provided and blurted out the first question that came to mind. "Okay, why is it that you scared my father half to death when you first met him, and you scared _me_ half to death when I first met you, but now I'm able to sit back with you and enjoy this fascinating conversation?"

"I already told you, I don't like your father. The fear... that is…" The Beast glanced down at the dinner table again, took a handkerchief, and began to tie it in knots. It was a surprisingly human gesture of nervousness. "It's a side effect of being a Beast. 'Beast,' after all, is just a polite name for an animal or a monster, and monsters are supposed to be frightening. I can take advantage of that through a simple coercion spell which I can turn'off' and 'on,' so to speak, at will. I like to think I'm not that frightening on my own, but if I care to expend the energy, I can terrify a living being until it's so witless it cannot move, cannot breathe, and drops dead of the experience." Abruptly, the Beast nearly slapped the handkerchief back on the table, as if annoyed that he had given in to his own restlessness. "Your father had angered and hurt me, and I wanted him to feel pain. I don't feel that way towards you, Duo, and I sincerely apologize for frightening you. But you were in your father's company, and I had to keep up illusions."

Duo shook his head. "No. You didn't. But we don't need to go back to the subject if it's making you so nervous."

"I am not _nervous_," protested the Beast.

"You can't tell me that you weren't nervous when you came down here to meet me, at least," Duo prodded.

"That was different," the Beast replied with dignity. "I'm not nervous _now_."

Duo grinned. "Sure." The Beast looked mildly discomfited. Duo decided it was time to return to the topic at hand, since he still had many questions left unasked, and inquired, "How did you know what to put in my room? It's full of things that interest me. You can't possibly have guessed it all."

"I'm glad you like it," said the Beast, the slightest touch of timid relief in his voice. "I spent a lot of time with it. I found out what you liked by asking your mirror. It's a bit slow, so it didn't understand me right away, but as soon as it figured things out, it showed me a series of things. First there was your family." The Beast looked at him and, miracle of miracles, Duo could discern guilt in the crystal blue of his eyes. "And I truly am sorry that I've taken you from them, but there wasn't any other choice… Then there were songs. Music. Instruments too, but particularly singing. The mirror showed me one night when you were performing for your family -- I had to tweak it substantially to get sound for even the one time, but when I did…" The Beast sighed. "I have to admit, Duo. Your voice… words aren't enough. I hadn't heard such a beautiful sound in some time. I was looking forward to meeting you so that I could thank you for the experience."

"You're welcome. Hey, if you really like, I can sing for you one of these days," Duo offered. "This manor's very pretty and all, but if I were you, I'd be really bored."

"I would greatly enjoy that. Thank you." The Beast smiled again, a shy, pleased smile, and Duo warmed inside, glad to have made his new friend happy.

"So what else did you see in the mirror?"

"Hmm. I saw books, I think, and then I saw the farm, and then the mirror got stubborn and wouldn't show me anything else. Tired, it said, but it was sparkling blue, not white. I couldn't give you the farm in here -- well, I could, but it would be a stupid waste of energy and illusions vanish if challenged -- however, books I could certainly get. I didn't know exactly what books you liked, the mirror was no longer cooperating and I was tired, so I simply put whatever I was interested in on the bookshelves and hoped you would find something."

"I did. The books are fascinating. Thanks for thinking of them."

The Beast shrugged. "Don't worry about it. You are prince and master here; if you're going to be trapped here, you might as well enjoy your stay."

Duo leaned forward in his seat and looked at his companion earnestly. "There's something else that's really been biting at me. Why me? Of all people in the world, why did you have to pick me? And… you know, you could be using me to get at my father. You said you didn't like him, and it would kill him if I died." He tried not to think about that too closely. "But rather than beat me and throw me in the dungeon or something, you're you're being _kind_. You've gone through so much trouble without having to. You picked me, but why are you making me comfortable? Why do you want me to be happy? If you were going to spend all this energy on me rather than just having me as a snack… well, why pick me at all?"

"That is… a very complicated question." The Beast looked pensive for a moment. "I'm not sure how to answer it, but I'll do my best. To your question of why I chose you: Well, I didn't know you personally when I told your father that I required his youngest child. I'd seen you, since I glance over the countryside often, and heard you, because your voice is beautiful, but I didn't really know you. For example, I had to do the finishing touches on your mirror, find out what you liked, and furnish your room last night, which is why I'm a bit tired… but that's nothing sleep won't cure. To return to the question…" The Beast hesitated, then said, "All I can really tell you is that everything happened in precisely the way it needed to happen and I took the first opportunity I had. I was lucky, really, that your father stumbled on this manor. People are supposed to find this place maybe once every century. But when your father did what he did, it provided me with an opening to do what was necessary for me to do."

Duo shook his head ruefully. "Please, if you're not allowed to tell me, just forget it."

The Beast seemed uncomfortable. "Please forgive me. I would be glad to tell you everything, but I really… I can't. If I had had a choice in the matter, however, I would not have taken you from your family, for your sake. I know that you love them." He cleared his throat. "The answer to your question about making you comfortable simplifies to something like this: I wasn't raised to be cruel. I know that may seem hard to understand, given my behavior towards your father, but on my terms, what I did to him was _justice_, not cruelty. He took away something I dearly loved with little provocation. I did the same. My roses died when they were taken from the earth, but I don't think you will, so in the end, he doesn't even come out losing. Now, the reason I'm giving you _special_ attention, attention I wouldn't give just anyone…"

The Beast did a little grin at him, short fangs showing. Duo hesitantly smiled back.

"Well, I like you, Duo," said the Beast softly. "You're proud, willful, bright, brave, and fiercely protective of what you love. It combines to make you a very beautiful person." The grin grew a bit wider. "Character is wonderful and that you possess in abundance, but I assure you, your big violet eyes and your lovely smile don't hinder things in the slightest."

Duo blinked, but the Beast wasn't done.

"Perhaps those poets in White Fang whom you spoke so badly of didn't mean as badly as you think. Perhaps they truly meant to flatter you, but for all their eloquence, didn't approach you the right way. I can see this is embarrassing for you --" Duo was steadily turning redder and flushed brilliantly at this reminder of the fact "-- but I suggest you think over your attitude towards them. In my time, I have seen many people paraded past me, so I find myself an unwilling authority on the subject, and truly, compared to you, theirs was a flimsy, transient comeliness. Your beauty is quite rare, Duo, and poets are the type of people naturally drawn to it. They are trained to recognize loveliness."

Duo was painfully bright by now. The Beast, quite amused, waited until Duo had control over himself again.

"Two last questions," said Duo, carefully gathering the remains of his dignity about him by skirting the previous subject entirely. "Yesterday night, when I first arrived, you scared me, a lot. I didn't get up from my chair to find a place to rest because I was so frightened. Yet when I woke up this morning, I was in a nice, comfortable bed in a tidy little room. I don't sleepwalk. How did I get there?"

"I carried you," his companion said frankly. Duo gave him a Look. The Beast grew defensive. "What? You were frightened, you didn't want to be here, the place probably held negative emotion for you. It would have been a sin to leave you huddled on the carpet. Of course I carried you someplace safe and warm and tucked you in. I'm a Beast, not a sadist."

"You're making me out to be some kind of helpless little thing," said Duo grumpily.

"I will remind you that you were under the effects of my fear coercion spell, which is nothing to be trifled with. For all effects and purposes, you _were_ a helpless little thing last night."

Duo mentally told his temper to go give itself an enema and said, "All right. The last thing I'll ask tonight is, how is everything _done_ in here? This manor is huge, but everything is tidy. I found lunch and dinner already prepared in here, and there was music playing at lunch. Tokimeite Harmony, I recognized it; it's Quatre's and my favorite work. But I couldn't see anyone playing. And the gardens you can't possibly tend that huge expanse all by yourself."

The Beast favored him with a tiny, rather proud smile, but didn't answer him directly. Instead, he muttered a rapid-fire phrase in a strange, sibilant language. Immediately, two pairs of ghostly green hands appeared. He addressed them, again in the weird language, and the hands took away Duo's plate and silverware. They zoomed silently down the hall to a location only they knew.

Duo stared, dumbstruck. His reaction won another little smile from the Beast, who simply folded his gloved hands.


	12. Interlude

**The Ice Prince: Interlude  
**by Meiran Chang

"Father."

Dorlian glanced up at his oldest child, then dropped his gaze, regarding the wooden table dully. Relena sighed, a pained look passing over her face, and shifted her weight to her other foot, carefully cradling the bowl of soup. Her father had aged twenty years in the one since his son had left. His hair was threaded liberally with strands of silver; his eyes were opaque and lackluster. He seemed constantly in pain, a pain no amount of rest, medicine, or food could ease.

He had faded. Relena couldn't reconcile her memories of a vigorous, vibrant man with this ghost of her father before her. She could understand much of it -- the guilt at letting his son go, the grief at Duo's death, the loneliness -- but this obsessive mourning was unnatural. It was no secret that his youngest son had been his favorite, but Dorlian was killing himself off by inches with this soul-consuming grief.

It wasn't as though she didn't miss Duo. She did. There wasn't a day she didn't think, "Duo'll love this," or "Maybe I should tell Duo," forgetting briefly that her brother was lost to her forever. The world was somber now without his laughter, his teasing, his joy. There was so much she wanted to share with him, so many new experiences she wanted him to hear about, and it hurt that she would never be able to tell him. Unlike her father, however, she was able to accept that Duo was gone.

She would never forget him, of course. Quatre felt the same way, she knew. Both of them had agreed to put the past behind them to remember their brother, but to move on, something Dorlian seemed unable to do. Quatre had advised her on the strategy necessary to break their father out of his catatonic misery: he'd told her to be harsh, to offer no sympathy until their father showed some sort of positive reaction. Relena felt that the time for catering to Dorlian's debilitating grief was long past and was more than willing to do this for him.

Relena set the hot bowl of soup before her father, who stared at it blankly. "Father, you have to eat," she said firmly, crossing her arms. "I'm not taking 'no' for an answer."

Dorlian mumbled, "Don't you have to go cook for your for that boy you -- ?"

Relena tsked. "Father, really. Heero knows how to cook. He's been on the farm since he was born."

Dorlian made no reply, only listlessly took spoon in hand and dipped it in. He held it for a while, staring at it. His hand trembled, causing the broth to slop out of the spoon's edges.

His daughter pulled up a seat across from him and sat down in it. "You do realize I'm staying here until you finish that bowl of soup," she informed him.

"You have better things to do than wait on your father," Dorlian protested weakly.

She shrugged. "Nothing Heero can't take care of while I'm here with you. He understands."

"Understands what?"

"That my father is killing himself because he lacks the will to live," Relena snapped, "and that because of that, I can't spend as much time with him as I want to. Look, Father, Duo's _gone_, all right? Doing this to yourself won't bring him back."

Tears gathered in Dorlian's eyes. He put the spoon down in the soup. "I miss him," he whispered. "My little boy... died scared and alone... because of me. I'm no father. I'm no father at all..."

"Eat," Relena growled. "First of all, I feel obliged to point out that Duo would absolutely _hate_ all the sniveling you've been doing." Dorlian started at her unsympathetic words, but she pressed on. "Duo was _always_ the one who could laugh, who had a smile or a joke ready for the worst of times. He knew what reality was, but he never forgot, even at the darkest moments, what happiness was. What kind of way is this to remember him, Father? Duo went to the Beast to save you, and I'm sure he wouldn't appreciate the effort you're going through to pine dramatically away." Dorlian still wasn't eating. That wasn't acceptable. "I told you to _eat_!" she reminded him sharply. Her father jumped a bit, looked guilty and began going through the motions of eating, going so far as to put the spoon in his mouth this time.

"I might also remind you that you have other children. I'm not telling you to give up on loving your son, but Quatre and I are still here. Both Quatre and I are willing to offer you support and keep you company. We want to tell you what's going on in our lives, but you won't listen because you're too wrapped up in grieving. The time is past for grief -- I'm sure Duo would tell you the same." Silently she asked her brother, wherever he was, to forgive her for putting words in his mouth. "We do love you, and we hate to see what you're doing to yourself. Father, what could be more ungrateful than to kill yourself after Duo sacrificed himself to avoid that very thing?"

Dorlian sighed, but a rush of color had come back to his pale face. He was eating now, Relena noted, and hungrily. Of course after his prolonged bouts of fasting, his body cried out for food. "I know it must seem stupid of me, but I… I miss him so badly," said her father quietly. Another long, wistful sigh. "He was my boy, my baby, the last child, and a parent always has a soft spot for the last. He's the special one, the one you go back to at night when he cries… the one you rock to sleep… the one you sing lullabies to. Your mother died giving birth to him, you know, and I'd recently lost my own parents. I would have gone mad with grief, but little Duo kept me sane, gave me a focus… reminded me that Sylvia had left me a family to take care of. He was her last gift to me.

"I remember him as a baby," he continued mistily. "He was a laughing baby… eyes big and bright like Sylvia's, of that precious violet. He was such an easy child to love, friendly and light-hearted and cheerful. But he was mature, you know? Strange maturity. He had this intuitive knowledge and acceptance of the way things worked that many adults out there today would give their souls for. God knows I could use that knowledge now. And even as a toddler he was a little showman. Drew everyone's attention. The times he made me laugh! Watching him grow… I was proud to be his father. I still am….

"I had so much hope for him. He was so gifted, so talented, so full of life. He was my sanity. He was my happiness. But you…" He glanced down at the scarred table, then back up at his daughter. "Relena, you're right. I still have two children. And Duo… Duo would not approve of of all this sadness. He always preferred laughter to tears." Dorlian closed his eyes. "I'll try to remember him as he would want me to, daughter. I will do my best."

Relena smiled fondly. "All right then, Father. Now please have some more of that excellent soup."

Dorlian nodded and took up the spoon again. "Now that I think of it, I am rather hungry," he mused between mouthfuls, though his eyes glistened with tears. At least he was trying, thought Relena. She wouldn't ask anything more now.

"Of course you're hungry, Father," she said gaily. "What you've eaten in the past year would starve a sparrow." Relena settled back comfortably in her chair. "Now that you're open to talk, let me tell you all the news. Anything you particularly want to know about?"

Dorlian paused for a moment and seemed to fumble for a question. That was okay. He needed time to adjust, to learn all over again that life was there to be faced. "Eh… Where's Quatre?" her father asked mildly. "Did he return to White Fang, or what? He hasn't been in the house."

Relena tried not to glare, but from the way her father shrank back, she didn't succeed. "Father, you can't tell me you just _forgot_ that Quatre and Trowa Bloom are in love. They've _been_ in love for three years. Quatre just went to live with Trowa because you've been making his life unbearable. And he wasn't happy with his decision, let me tell you that much, but he was _also_ unhappy with you and how you were acting. He was trying so hard to get you to talk to him, to open up, but you were just deaf to the world in your private misery. He didn't know the right way to help you. He tried everything under the sun and stars, he really did, but you never responded, and _finally_ he left because he would go just as crazy as you already were if he lived under this roof another day. I can't count the number of times Quatre came to me, just as proof that his whole family wasn't cracking because of Duo's death!"

"Enough," Dorlian groaned. "I understand. I was a fool and I've had this scolding coming for a while." He closed his eyes for a moment, brows drawing down, the new wrinkles and lines in his face deepening. "Please make an effort to understand things from your father's point of view."

"I understand you too much to let you fall into incessant mourning." Relena glanced at his bowl of soup and exclaimed, "Hey, you're done!"

Dorlian opened his eyes and glanced down himself, looking rueful as he said, "So I am."

"I'm impressed." The soup bowl sparkled. "That was quick. All right, just a minute. I have some bread and butter in the kitchen." She rose to fetch it and quickly returned with a plate bearing large hunks of bread-and-butter. Dorlian took a big bite of one and Relena, watched in satisfaction, commented: "Quatre and I understand what you're going through -- we went through an abbreviated version of it. You weren't a fool, Father, but your grieving had gone too far. We -- Quatre and I, I mean -- we decided we needed to check it or you really were just going to take sick and die. We don't mean to tell you that you need to stop missing or mourning your son. But you have to remember that _you_ are still alive."

"All _right_," Dorlian said after a swallow. "Relena. Please. All right. I understand." He paused for a moment, then ventured, "So what's Quatre doing now?"

"He and Trowa are setting up their own farm. It's in that splotch of land to the north of ours. It's not that long a walk from there to either Catherine's home or yours, which is precisely why they chose it." Relena smiled. "Quatre's great with carpentry and animals; Trowa's a wonder with plants and has a knack for organization. Not only are they in love, but their skills complement each other's perfectly. And they both like it here. They don't want to go to the city. They figure when they get the farm running, they'll adopt a child." She giggled. "It really is romantic. They're so in love. Quatre's tried to talk to you about it before, but you were always off in the clouds."

Dorlian looked guilty. "I'll talk to him later."

"Don't worry, Father. I'll tell him to come over."

"Thank you, Relena." Dorlian glanced up at the ceiling rafters, then at Relena. He cleared his throat and said, "So, now… is there anything you would like to tell me?"

"Why, yes. You see, Father, you kind of missed the details of me and Heero's handfasting."

"What?"

"Me and Heero. He asked me to marry him a month or so back and I said yes. I've been trying to tell you for the longest time."

"I'm sorry," Dorlian said helplessly. He put his face in his hands. "My daughter's going to get married, and I didn't even notice. Dear God. I'm sorry, Relena. I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you." His shoulders slumped. "I promise."

He looked so much as he had that day nearly two and a half years ago when he told them that they would be leaving White Fang. His genuine contrition melted her bitterness. "Oh, Father." She got up and hugged him tightly. For the first time in a year, he responded and hugged her back. "It doesn't matter. I know you were heartsore and mourning."

She pulled away in time to see a fond and slightly regretful touch her father's lips. It reminded her, somehow, of Duo, and she felt that somewhere, Duo was watching her, wearing that smile. The thought almost brought tears to her eyes and she took a moment to fight them back down.

"Anyway," she said at last. "You want to know about me and Heero?"

Dorlian nodded.

"Okay, well, this happened after one of Heero's Mage lessons. See, we were talking about our families, and Heero brought you up, and I said that I was really worried about you, and I started tearing up, because it really was a frustrating situation and _I_ sure didn't know what to do about it. And Heero's so empathetic, almost like Quatre. He comforted me and he held me and stuff, which was nice. And then he said that he was really grateful to me for all I'd done for him, and we talked for a little while more, and then he asked me! He was so nervous, poor baby…"

Relena grinned despite herself. The memory of intense Heero, looking at her with that serious, apprehensive ocean blue gaze, and asking her to be his wife… Duo would have had so much fun teasing her, and she would have had as much fun laughing at what he came up with. The memory of a delightfully filthy song Duo had sung about one of her old boyfriends in White Fang came to mind. She couldn't imagine Heero doing _anything _the lover in that song had done. Or -- she stifled a snort of laughter -- maybe she could….

"Relena?" Dorlian prodded curiously.

"Oh!" Relena was startled out of her thoughts. "Oh, I'm sorry. Yes. Well, when Heero asked me, of course I said yes. I mean, I really do love him. He's such a sweetheart. So right now we're just planning the ceremony. Shigeta and Hana say we can live with them if we want to, but what we'd really like to do is move to the city. In a few years maybe we can do that."

"It sounds like you two have your future planned very well," Dorlian said.

"Absolutely," Relena said with a wink. Then she was struck by genius inspiration and added, "By the way, Father, Heero and I were planning a dinner at his parents' home for tonight. Won't you come? We've already invited Quatre, Trowa, and Catherine." _Or at least we're going to right after I get home._

"Oh?" Her father smiled. "What's the special occasion?"

"None," she said airily. _Except your return to life._

"I think I will go, Relena. Thank you for thinking of me."

"Only because you're my father," she said teasingly.

He made a soft concurring sound and smiled. After nearly a year of sadness and silence, the tired beauty of his smile was poignant. "Of course."

They sat together in companionable silence for a while. Relena was elated at her success in dealing with her father. She could still see a stubborn grief haunting the back of his eyes, and likely _that_ grief would never fade. But as long as he could eat, breathe, sleep and smile, she was satisfied. He wouldn't die from not wanting to live now not with this new hope for the future.

After some time, Relena got up. "I should probably get going," she said fondly. "You think you can take care of yourself here?"

Her father nodded. "I'll clean up." He looked around ruefully at the spiderwebs stretching from rafter to rafter, at the dust gathering on the shelf above the fireplace, at the wrinkled clothing draped carelessly over the backs of chairs and the cushions tumbled all over the floor, and repeated, "Yes, I'll certainly clean up."

Relena grabbed her warm wool coat, for a year had passed and it was winter again, and shrugged it on. "Quatre and I will be stopping by every few days. You needn't worry about being left alone too often." She leaned down and kissed her father's cheek. "I love you, Father. See you at the dinner."

"See you," he replied, and watched her go.


	13. Chapter XI

_**The Ice Prince: Chapter XI  
**_by Meiran Chang

Duo's first year with the Beast was... confusing. It passed in a slow, heavy blur. He wasn't unhappy -- the Beast cared for him with tender solicitude. Anything Duo asked for, anything Duo even hinted he might possibly want, was his. Every day he ate the best and most exotic foods, wore the richest and most comfortable fabrics, and went about in an environment of immeasurable wealth, granted free passage everywhere. "I want you to be happy here," the Beast would say, and at such times, there was a flicker of intense, quickly hidden desperation in his eyes.

They weren't together all the time because the Beast had much experience with unwanted company. Or so he said. Nevertheless, the Beast did dine with Duo and proved an excellent dinner companion. Duo liked that, since the Beast had a glancing knowledge of many subjects and was always willing to explain, elaborate, and share what he knew. Often, they would spend hours arguing some abstract topic -- philosophy, ethics, spirit realms -- their food growing cold and congealed as they expounded upon their points. When a twinge of their hungry stomachs reminded them of reality, the Beast would call his helpers, those ghostly green hands, which whisked away the cold food to replace it seconds later with something fresh from the kitchens. Then Duo and the Beast would continue from where they had left. In some ways, the Beast reminded Duo of Quatre. He was certainly intelligent enough.

Unlike gentle Quatre, the Beast had a flair for sarcasm and eye for irony. He could twist a phrase like a knife. He was always kind and considerate, however, even when they disagreed, and he never allowed himself to remain locked in one viewpoint. The Beast was at heart an idealist, with grand and lofty ideals, and his own failure to reach those ideals hurt him deeply. In particular, casual mention of Duo's family made him wince and apologize. Clearly the Beast regretted taking Duo away.

Duo spent much of his time trying to figure out who the Beast had once been. There were no clues and the Beast wasn't inclined to drop hints. Indeed, the only reason Duo knew that the Beast couldn't possibly have been born in his present form were some of his habits: his impeccable manners, the way he nodded, shook his head, and shrugged. Beasts didn't pick up those patently human habits. Duo spent days prowling the halls, searching for some telltale insignia or coat of arms or portrait, but his searches were always fruitless. All he learned was that his hunch about the Beast once being human was correct, because there was simply no other sensible possibility. His friend refused to affirm or deny any of Duo's other guesses about him, stiffly discouraging inquiries into his history.

"If I could tell you, Duo, I would," the Beast had snapped once, exasperated by Duo's persistence. "I tell you everything else, do I not? Please understand that I cannot share my past with you and leave me in peace!"

Duo had responded with a cheeky salute and a nodded, "Will do, Stranger," and backed off. If his friend the Beast wanted to remain a riddle, so be it, but Duo would take advantage of every opportunity he had to learn something about this mystery he lived with. When he happened to pass the Beast by during the day, he would toss the question out at him, hoping to surprise him into an answer: "So who were ya?" In return the Beast would toss him a quelling Look and go swiftly on his way.

This identity game was just a game, however, and it didn't take his mind away from what was really tugging at him: his family.

He missed them, longed to be with them, and that was something the Beast couldn't alleviate, though, to his credit, he tried. His companion was awkward and hesitant when faced with emotional things and didn't know how Duo would respond to personal questions, though he rightly assumed that they needed to be asked. So when the Beast queried him with gentle concern, Duo did his best to answer, knowing the Beast didn't mean to hurt.

Duo poured his heart out talking about his father and brother and sister, about his life at home, his life in general, quirks of his siblings, stray moments he recalled. Talking, and the Beast's kindness in listening, helped. Still, he wanted to be with them, and this want was a dull, gnawing need in his chest, a wistful hope cherished in his dreams. He knew that they missed him and likely thought him dead -- he watched them in his enchanted mirror whenever he could, sick with the longing for home. He had never been away from them before.

This ache in him grew worse as the months passed. He knew that it wouldn't do him any good to cry for home. It wasn't healthy, and boys didn't cry. So he would turn his mind to other things, like the books in the library or his music. He wrote several songs while he was there. They sounded lonely and forlorn when he plucked them out on the lute, and his voice was too yearning and melancholy. He put his instruments away and lost himself in books more often.

He wasn't used to depression and didn't much like it. Because he was unfamiliar with it, he didn't know how to navigate it, how to avoid falling into the mental traps that stimulated it. He knew that he made the Beast worry and tried to hide his sadness under layers of glib cheer, but the Beast's slit-pupiled eyes cut deftly through the masks he piled on. There were nights when he fell asleep in the Beast's arms, held gently against the warm fabric of his friend's clothing, because he was so lonely for his family that he longed for another being's company.

He wasn't always sad, however. Because at heart he was an optimistic person, Duo found ways to distract himself and make himself forget. The Beast was always helpful in this regard. Sometimes the Beast would walk with him in the garden and teach him some of what he knew about botany; sometimes he would show Duo playful bits of magic, making the dinnerware hop and skip; and on one occasion, Duo modeled for the Beast all the clothing in his closet (and there were many lurid combinations to be had there). When the Beast lent his voice to the "prestigious" role of fashion commentator, both of them laughed until they wheezed.

The Beast, far from being the ferocious and barely sentient monster Duo had envisioned nearly a year past when his father came home with a black rose, became his dearest friend. Duo found new qualities and virtues in him every day. Then winter came, and with it Duo's eighteenth birthday.

The day dawned unexceptionally. The pale winter sunlight slanted across his room, and the view of the courtyard out of the window was particularly lovely, as there had been a light snowfall the previous night. Despite the protests of his luxury-eager inner self, he sleepily got out from beneath the cozy blankets, washed his face, wrapped himself in a thick, plush robe he chilled easily and plodded down the corridor to breakfast, yawning as he went. The Beast was already eating, and gave him a nod of greeting before continuing. Duo smiled in return, sat down and ate. The breakfast was hot, just the way Duo liked it, and he ate slowly to savor the taste.

The Beast, rather than bid Duo good day when he was done and wander off, waited patiently. When Duo finished and looked expectantly at the Beast, his friend called the disembodied hands to take away the food and said, "Happy birthday."

"Yeah? No kidding, it's my birthday? Already?" There wasn't much of a way to keep track of time in the Beast's manor, so Duo had been waiting for winter to roll around, figuring that he could count it a done deal when spring began sneaking in. Duo grinned at his friend. "Yes! I'm eighteen! How did you know?"

The Beast waved the question away. "Does it matter? Anyway, since it's your birthday, I thought I should… do something special."

"Aww."

The Beast carried on as if he hadn't heard. "So I'm going to meet you in a room of the manor you've never been in and… tell you something… and give you a gift, which you may accept or decline as you please. An hour after the sun has set, ask the mirror where you're supposed to meet me. I enchanted it last night as you slept, so today only, when you ask, it will shrink to a portable size. You should carry it in your hand as it provides direction, since without it, you really will lose yourself."

"But I've been all over this place, Beast," Duo corrected.

The Beast smiled. "No. Not really." He pushed his chair away from the table and rose. "Dress up if you like. Have a good day."

"Thanks!" Duo called as the Beast strode with his usual swiftness out of the Dining Hall.

In a rather good humor, Duo returned to his room, grabbed 'Zero Visions' by Tranto as he passed a bookshelf, curled up in bed, asked the mirror to light the fireplace (which it promptly did), and read. Tranto, an ancient priest of an old Uchuuese religion focused on paying homage to science, had written an enormous volume containing the story of the world from beginning to supposed end. He said that there were multiple universes existing simultaneously, and multiple versions of every person in every universe. He claimed to have seen into these different worlds, and devoted over six hundred pages to enumerating what he saw there.

The world Tranto described that most disturbed Duo was a grim one, filled with death, violence, conspiracies and lies. Tranto wrote, "I saw strife, and war, and five children forced to fight, and massive machines that moved with grace and power, striking fear into the hearts of the innocent and guilty alike, ay! And there we lived in the stars under the rule of a fierce and terrible army, unhappy, oppressed, twisted by propaganda, wounded and restless. There was lifted up a cry for true justice and true peace, and those who lived in the stars spawned five great machines, which we called Gundams, and children fought in these, boys all, fifteen. Talented and great of spirit and noble of heart and mind they were, but boys still, and they had the task of redeeming humanity." The passage seemed to echo in Duo's mind, for whatever reason. When he read of the boys themselves, the eerie feeling grew even greater:

"There were from all walks of life, all backgrounds, these boys, their only similarities being their resolve to subdue and conquer this evil that so tainted the world, and their hard and painful pasts. The first had the outward seeming of a soldier and was perfection in skill; the second had touched a God, Shinigami, and brought the God within himself to dwell; the third was a vacuum without fear or dread, empty-eyed; the fourth an Empath who saw wounds of spirit and cried for what he could not heal; and the fifth, grave and thoughtful and relentless, a widower and grieving still."

When he discovered the names of the five boys according to Tranto -- Heero, Duo, Trowa, Quatre, and Wufei -- he started and slammed the book shut. "That's enough reading for today," he murmured as he placed the book, with its plain dark blue cover, on his night table and eased himself out from beneath the blankets.

He glanced over thoughtfully at his semi-sentient mirror. He'd asked the Beast to explain about its enchantment in more detail one night over dinner, and his friend explained that the mirror was equipped with a self-learning spell. When pressured for more, the Beast shrugged and advised him to look it up in his library, as it was difficult to explain. Duo did as recommended and gained a great deal of respect for the Beast's level of Mage-craft, for the enchantment called Self-Learning, which gave an object approximately the brains of an intelligent monkey, was immensely difficult, required quite a bit of magical power behind it, and drained its caster almost to the core. The spellbook that Duo consulted on the matter recommended that the enchanter do his or her work in parts, though spread out thus, it would take several months to a year to complete, depending on the size of the object and the degree of Self-Learning. Even so, the spellbook warned, the spell was quite intricate and could seriously harm an enchanter who wasn't yet at a sufficient power level. Making the mirror as bright as it was must have been a true challenge.

_"I made the mirror especially for you…it was rather draining."_ The Beast had been extremely modest.

The mirror, noting Duo's regard, began to sparkle flirtatiously, jolting Duo out of his thoughts. "Can I see my family, please?" Duo asked the mirror, which sparkled merrily and obliged.

He asked to see his family every day -- it had become a sort of ritual to him, to check up on their well-being. His father had been seriously worrying him lately, with his pale face and lackluster eyes, and it was clear to anyone who could put two and two together why Dorlian had been so reduced: Duo. Duo wished dearly to be able to assure his father that he was all right, but unfortunately, that was a wish the mirror, with its limited capacity, was unable to grant. Dorlian obviously thought Duo dead, eaten by the Beast, and though _now_ the image of the impeccably mannered Beast tearing into some hapless body with slavering mouth and shaking jowls made Duo laugh, it wasn't a laughing matter to his grieving father. Just the other day he had seen Relena haranguing his father, and though the mirror couldn't provide sound, it wasn't hard to imagine what Relena was lecturing about. Duo hoped today brought some improvement.

Duo watched his father with amazed delight. Rather than mope about the house looking barely alive, Dorlian was briskly cleaning the house up, dusting, sweeping, arranging the sparse but colorful furniture, and beating the rugs. Quatre entered the room, looking tired but cheerful, and embraced his father, saying something and then heading in the direction of the kitchen. Then Quatre came back, bearing a tray of coffee and some breadish snacks, before the mirror sparkled white to let him know that would be all.

Feeling much uplifted, he thanked the mirror, which sparkled happily in purple and pink before calming down, and glanced out the window. It was yet some time until sunset, so Duo decided he might as well wander the garden. He opened the door of his cavernous wardrobe to grab some appropriate winter clothes a wolf's-fur tunic, thick breeches, leather boots, and a heavy velvet cape and slid into them. He hesitated for a bit, then decided to take his lute and composition-papers with him. He let himself out of his room and walked the lengths of a couple of now-familiar hallways before finding the great glass doors and striding through.

The garden, a timeless, magical place, seemed barely changed from the way he remembered it scarcely a year past. Hummingbirds still hovered energetically from flower to flower, along with their rivals in color, butterflies; the flowers still bloomed, gloriously bright and larger than any Duo had seen before he came here; the weeping willows bent gently, and their branches moved with a soft rustling in the wind. It was magic, the Beast had said with a shrug; nothing more.

Duo found a good spot underneath his favorite tree and spread his materials before him. He felt much better than he had in weeks. The creative muse stirred within him, and who was he to deny the prompting of such an impetuous and fickle creature?

After an hour of hard work bent over the page, he had only about a verse of song down, but he was happy with it. It was a praise of mages, lauding them for the great personal risks they took in magic's name and thanking them, and silently he dedicated it to the Beast. He thrummed experimentally on his lute, tuned it, and then sang a bit of what he'd written. It was the first good song he'd been able to write in ages. The sound of his voice didn't depress him. Glowing with the thrill, he scribbled out a few more words, set them to the tune, and sang.

He spent the next few hours working furiously on the song, meaning to present it to the Beast as a gift. He finished just as the clear winter sun began to set, the sky muting to a soft silver-blue, and feeling accomplished and much cheered, he went back indoors. He made a quick detour to eat a fast dinner, though the Beast didn't show up, then retired to his quarters to pick out what he was going to _wear_ for this surprise of the Beast's.

The mirror sparkled green in worry that he'd be late as Duo alternately frowned, squinted, pondered, and laughed over his clothing. Finally, he settled on a deep blue tunic and breeches, decorated with stylized silver outlines of leaves and birds across the chest and down the sides of the legs. Over that, he wore a warm black cape that swooshed in a most satisfactory way when he made a sharp turn. He let his hair down, brushed it until it slipped through his fingers and felt like silk, braided the thick chestnut mass neatly, tied the braid with a flourish, examined himself in the mirror, and pronounced himself fit.

Remembering the Beast's instructions, Duo lifted the mirror off the wall -- with some effort, as it was a heavy thing with a frame of actual gold inset with precious stones -- and questioned it as to the Beast's location. Sparkling, the mirror shrank to the size of his palm, making it much easier to carry, and showed him the view of the corridor he'd need to go through first. He took lute case in hand and went on his way.


	14. Chapter XII

_**The Ice Prince: Chapter XII  
**_by Meiran Chang

Duo spent some time navigating the labyrinth that was the manor, mirror in hand, and found that the Beast was right. Mysterious entryways which he had never noticed in even the most familiar of corridors appeared tonight with disquieting regularity, until Duo would have been quite lost had it not been for the mirror. The farther along he went, door after door and long, high-ceilinged corridor after corridor, the older felt the air, the heavier with despondency. The hangings on the wall grew tattered, the stone walls and floor thick with dust. Displays of coats of arms, all so old Duo didn't recognize them, and of antique swords and suits of armor showed up more often.

Finally, after several spiraling staircases and eerie hallways, the mirror told him to stop in front of a thick, scarred wooden door. Duo pushed it cautiously, and it yielded with creaky grouchiness.

The room within was lit only sparingly by the occasional well-placed candle gently burning. There were armchairs and such sprinkled about, and they looked comfortable enough, but upon close inspection they were revealed to be old, faded and ripped. Duo eased silently into the room, gripping the mirror in one hand and the lute in the other. Moonlight shone in through the open glass doors of a small balcony, and sitting in a high-backed armchair with his back to Duo sat the Beast, beside a small and pretty three-legged table. Through the thin ragged curtain veiling the table, a faint glow was visible.

"Beast?" Duo called quietly.

"Ah. Duo." The Beast rose and turned to face him. With the moon behind him, he was blanketed in a silver glow and visible only in silhouette. He walked forward a bit, features becoming clear in the candlelight, and smiled. "Good evening."

"Hi." Duo looked around him nervously and tried not to shiver. This room made him feel cold. "Why is it so dark in here, Beast?"

Duo could see the Beast's ice-blue eyes narrow in confusion. "Dark? Oh, I'm sorry. I can see rather well in the dark… I must have forgotten." He muttered something under his breath and suddenly the candles not only flared brighter, but had companions flaring brightly besides them as well.

The Beast gestured to one of the armchairs, still standing. "Please. Have a seat."

Duo glanced at one particularly broken-down armchair dubiously and sat himself on the edge of a canopy bed, a faint shadow of the vibrant scarlet bed in his own room. It sagged beneath his weight. He placed the lute and mirror beside him and folded his hands in his lap. The Beast went and dragged one of the less-weathered armchairs over across from Duo, sat down, and waited.

He didn't need to wait long. "Beast… there are lots of nice rooms in your manor. Why have you brought me here?" Duo asked, glancing around him nervously. The room was seriously affecting him. His good mood hung around him in bewilderment.

"What? You don't think this is a nice room?" Duo could catch the glint of moonlight off the Beast's fangs, and sighed at this example of his friend's peculiar humor.

"It's… unique," Duo offered awkwardly after a moment's pause. "It feels heavy, though." He gathered his cape closer around him and hugged himself. "It feels like a lot of history. It's a little frightening."

"I'm right here," the Beast told him calmly. "Would I have brought you here if it weren't safe?"

"Maybe you'd think it was funny," Duo hazarded.

"No," the Beast said with conviction. "Never." He paused for a moment, then said in a manner different from his usual, "There's something I have to confess to you before I can answer any questions. It's…" He paused again. "Duo, it is very difficult for me to say."

"Could I _please_ sit next to you? Or you next to me?" Duo burst out, feeling more and more affected by this strange room by the moment. "I'd feel a lot better."

"Of course." The Beast rose and sat quietly by Duo's side. "That better?"

"Yes," Duo breathed in relief.

"I didn't think you'd be that affected by the magical presence here. You're clearly very sensitive to Mage-craft. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. What were you going to say?"

The Beast made a frustrated noise and clenched his fists on his legs. "This is _very_ hard for me to say. Please do me a favor and don't…joke about it, or laugh at me, or anything, after I've said it. Is that okay?"

"All right," Duo said, a bit puzzled by the Beast's distress. "No problem."

The Beast closed his eyes and said, very softly, "Duo, I love you."

The Beast's request was almost unnecessary, as Duo was so dumbstruck by the simple confession that he couldn't have said anything if he tried. The world stuttered to a halt, then jerked forward again, and the Beast's voice echoed in his mind. _I love you…_

"I know it sounds ridiculous," said the Beast in a voice of utter despair. "But I had to tell you. Had to. Please don't hate me. It's something you needed to know."

"You… _me_?" was all Duo was able to choke out.

Visibly struggling to gather control, the Beast said, "I think I've loved you since I met you."

Duo, still struggling to wrap his mind around the extraordinary concept that the erudite Beast could have fallen in love with _him_, blurted without thinking, "Since I fell off a _chair_?"

The Beast chuckled in uneasy appreciation. "Well, yes. Duo, I could sense something beautiful in you from the second I saw you; something willing to overlook appearance, having weathered judgment of that kind. You looked at my _eyes_, not my body. You saw inside of me and knew, at some level of your subconscious, that I wouldn't hurt you. How else could you have been so collected when I first met you for dinner that night?"

Duo spread his hands and shook his head helplessly. "I -- I don't know -- I…"

His companion sighed and glanced away. "I'm sorry. I know we could never… but anyway. I have a question for you."

By this time, Duo was so much in shock all he could do was squeak, "Yes?"

"Duo, love is a very strong word. I use it knowing full well the level of seriousness it implies. I've had time to reflect over what exactly it is that I feel for you, and I've concluded that it has to be love. What I want to do is make you happy," the Beast elaborated with real passion, "and when you're sad, or upset, or angry or anything like that, it feels like the sun has abandoned this world. It leaves me feeling that I've failed, because you're not content. So I'm going to ask you something. Just once. I won't bother you with it anymore, and if you say no, that's fine. But please be honest, as I can't accept a lie."

Feeling a bit dizzy, Duo nodded and immediately regretted it.

"Will you stay with me?" The Beast looked at Duo imploringly. "Here. With me. Will you promise not to leave me?"

His head spun. Duo put it in his hands and said, muffled, "This is an awful lot to swallow all at once, Beast."

"But I had to tell you tonight," his companion replied, watching him anxiously. "I'm sorry if I'm causing you any pain…"

"Um, don't be. I'll get over it." Duo sighed and picked his head up. His friend glanced back at him and then quickly away, then back up, worry written clearly on his face. Fleetingly, Duo thought back to the first week or so he'd been here, when the Beast seemed dispassionate all the time; now Duo could read him as well as he could a member of his family. "Beast, you're… I care for you. I would never want to hurt you. You're good and wise and…"

The Beast's eyes were a more burning blue than Duo ever remembered, the candlelight flickering reflected in them.

"You're my greatest friend, Beast," Duo said, looking away from the force of the Beast's gaze and fidgeting with the silver trim of his cape. "I wouldn't mind staying with you here. But I… my family. I miss them." His voice quavered, and Duo took a moment to steady it. "They think I'm dead. I just want to tell them I'm okay." His voice broke again, and Duo stopped trying to hide it, finally choking out, a tight knot in his throat, "I miss my father. I want to go home."

The Beast looked shattered, and Duo's heart felt suddenly heavy with guilt, but the Beast touched his shoulder, shaking his head. "It's my fault," the Beast said clearly. "My fault. And I'm sorry, Duo. I should never have kept you here so long. I'd rather die than see you unhappy, but all I've done is cause you this pain."

"You haven't --"

"I'm sorry," the Beast repeated quietly, in a tone of voice that made Duo fall silent. "But saying it is not enough. By the hands of God, Duo, I can't bear to see you suffer like this anymore. It isn't right and I _will not_ cage you in here any longer."

Duo, who had closed his eyes in a concentrated effort not to burst out wailing, opened them again and looked at the Beast, curiosity momentarily overwhelming all his other conflicting emotions. "What kind of gift are you giving me, Beast?"

The Beast's visage became sad for a brief moment before clearing again into a determined, if imperfect, neutrality. In response, he lifted his gloved hand, closed his fist loosely, and murmured a word. Then he opened his fist, and instead of air, a small velvety box resided cozily within.

"What is that?" Duo asked, moving closer and peering over his shoulder.

The Beast depressed a small indentation on the small box, causing it to spring open, and nesting inside was a shining ring. "It's not what you think it is," the Beast commented, and Duo shut his mouth. The golden ring had a gem on it that sparkled all the colors of the rainbow, radiating gently in the dim candlelight, and the Beast handed this ring to Duo, who held it tightly. "What this ring will do," the Beast told him, with only the slightest pain haunting the back of his voice, "is bring you home."

He had been entranced by the shimmering colors of the mysterious jewel on the ring, but at the word "home," Duo's head snapped up. "It will?" he blurted out.

The Beast nodded. "This is my birthday gift to you. When you go to sleep tonight, wear the ring and think of home. In the morning, you'll wake up at your cottage, in your bed." Apologetically, the Beast added, "I can only let you go for a week."

"Not to give offense, but, hypothetically, if you let me go, what makes me come back? You don't have some sort of magical control over me… do you?"

"Of course not." The Beast looked mildly indignant. "You know me. Would I ever do that? The only thing that will make you come back is… well, it won't _make_ you come back, but if you care for me at all, you will."

"What?"

The Beast sighed. "It's a bit humiliating, but here's the short version. As a Beast, I'm a magical creature. You know that."

"Yes."

"Well, love is a curious thing, magically. Since I'm a Beast, it affects me in an interesting manner. You see, I…" The Beast's eyebrow twitched a bit. "I love you. More than anything. In magical terms, this means that I can't live without you. My heart will literally begin to break. So if you don't come back within a week, not only will I be very lonely and unhappy, but I will die slowly and painfully in the space of a few days. You don't have to come back, but… for many reasons, I would be overjoyed if you did."

"I'll come back," Duo declared, and grinned at the Beast. "Don't worry. I'll stay a week and come right back." Joy filled him at the thought of going back to his family. Seeing his father and brother and sister, hearing all that had happened while they thought him dead, telling them all about the Beast…. On impulse, Duo threw his arms around the Beast and hugged him tightly. "Thank you."

Hesitantly, the Beast laid a gloved hand on the top of Duo's head, resting it there for a brief moment. Duo curled close before he pulled away. The Beast was smiling, and said, "When you want to come back, put on your ring, think about me or this place, and go to sleep. When you wake, you'll find yourself in this room."

"Thank you." Duo slipped the ring on and closed his other hand over it, elated.

"Duo, if I can ask," the Beast said, "why have you brought your lute?"

The total non sequitur made Duo blink before he realized what the Beast meant and recalled why he'd lugged the case along. "Right! Well, I wrote a song for you today in the garden." He hefted his lute case onto his lap, opened it, pulled the instrument out, and fiddled with the tuning as he said, "I remember one night when you told me you liked my voice. I just remembered that I've never sung for you. You never really asked. I don't know why, since if you had, I would have."

"You were so sad," said the Beast in a reminiscent tone. "It would have been like caging a beautiful bird and forcing it to sing."

Duo smiled. "That's sweet. But anyway, I thought I'd sing this for you, since you've done so much for me. I hope you like it."

"I'm sure I will."

After one final test thrum, Duo sat up straight, settled the lute comfortably in his lap, and began.

It was clear from the peaceful expression that slowly settled over the Beast's features that his friend was enjoying the performance, and Duo gave him his best. The melody was simple and quiet, occasionally swelling into a powerful and impassioned crescendo. Its lyrics described the danger and few rewards of Mage-craft, and the perseverance and indomitable will of mages when faced with all manner of challenges, ardently challenging the theory that the art of magic was an unholy thing. The quality of the lute, crafted by the master Quinze, rendered the music fragile and divine, and in the old room filled with the spirit of Mage-craft, it was ever the more poignant. Duo's voice echoed in the room, and when he held a note, it was almost unearthly. When he sang, his voice was completely steady.

He finished, the last tones of the song lingering plaintively before passing away, and looked for approval to the Beast. In response, the Beast took his ringed hand and pressed it gently against his lips, then released it. He touched Duo's face with the sort of tenderness one might expect from a lover and said, "You're beautiful. Thank you." It felt for a moment as if he were about to add something, but the Beast smiled at him, a smile equal parts sadness and love, and left the room.

Feeling pulled in more different directions than he ever had in his life, Duo, moved and warmed by the Beast's eloquent simplicity, gathered his lute and grabbed the mirror before his gaze was caught by a soft light coming from the balcony, beyond the torn velvet curtain. Duo had noticed it when he came in, but had understandably forgotten about it when the Beast began to talk to him. Curious, Duo ventured forward and brushed the tattered curtain aside.

On the pretty three-legged table, enclosed in a smooth bell glass, was a beautiful black rose, suspended in mid-air. It shone. The bottom of the glass case was carpeted by petals, and as Duo watched, another petal fell, drifting dreamily downwards in the moonlight.


	15. Chapter XIII

**The Ice Prince: Chapter XIII**  
by Meiran Chang

Duo was very careful to make sure that he was wearing the Beast's gift before went to bed. Heart beating fast, he prayed, _Please take me home,_ and through sheer force of will, he fell asleep.

When he woke up the next morning, it took him but a split second to realize that he was no longer in his room at the Beast's manor, but rather, in his own room back home in the cottage, with bright sunlight streaming in through his window past his gauzy curtains. He glanced down at his coverlet it felt rough and scratchy, and had blue and yellow stripes on it. He remembered Relena making both things.

A smile stretched across his face and Duo hugged his knees to his chest, so filled with happiness and relief that he could hardly have spoken. He hadn't been here in a year, and yet the room was just as he left it, an old shirt thrown over a wicker chair and his house slippers in the corner. He jumped out of bed, glad to breathe the sweet country air, tied the sash of his robe around his slim waist, put on his slippers and left the room in search of his father.

Dorlian was in the kitchen, cooking his breakfast, his back to the doorway. Duo leaned against the side of the entrance and waited, barely breathing, for his father to turn around. The ex-merchant uttered a small sigh and scooped his morning meal onto a plate, then headed for the table.

When he saw his son, he froze. The plate slipped from Dorlian's hand and crashed on the floor. Duo grinned, pushed himself off the side of the entranceway, and teased, "Father, we're not getting clumsy in our old age, are we?"

"Duo…"

"It's really me, Da," Duo said, eyes shining, and in two seconds he had crossed the distance between them and flung his arms around his father, beside himself with joy. Dorlian began sobbing, and Duo hugged him tightly. They embraced each other for a long time.

Finally, they broke apart. Tears of gladness were tumbling down his father's face, and the man said in a quavering voice, "Duo, I can't believe you're you're alive!"

"Tah," Duo said cheekily, bouncing. "I'm too cute to die. Come sit on the couch with me so I can tell you all about it, Father. The Beast isn't a bad person."

"The Beast isn't a person," his father noted, wiping his tears away as he followed Duo's lead into the cozy sitting room and sat down besides his son.

They spent the next few hours talking. Duo told his father about what had occurred after his departure from the manor. Dorlian's nut-brown eyes remained quite watery and threatened to spill over more than once when Duo described how terrified he'd been, but Duo stayed light-hearted and cheerful so as to spare his father the humiliation of crying again.

"The Beast doesn't like you very much, Father. I don't think he'll ever really forgive you for killing his roses. But he's told me that he's sorry he caused me pain, and since my pain was in part caused by knowing that _ you_ were in pain, I guess that can extend itself to an apology to you. If you interpret it kind of creatively."

Dorlian sighed. "If I had ever once thought that monster would be offended by my taking a simple rose…"

Duo poked his father lightly. "He's not a monster, Father. He's a very good person. He's always treated me kindly, and he's been my only friend for the past year."

"It's his fault you were in the position where he could be your only companion," Dorlian pointed out.

"Well, if we really had to get into it, wouldn't it be your fault? I mean," Duo backpedaled hurriedly, noting a haunted look passing into his father's eyes, "you didn't know that would happen, but still. He doesn't have to be as kind as he is. He really isn't as bad as all that, Da. He's a wonderful person and he's shown me goodness beyond anything I ever dreamed."

"I still say only a monster would take a man's youngest son away from him and give the man to understand that his son would be killed in a most particularly cruel way," Dorlian replied stoutly.

"He was _supposed_ to take me away," Duo explained. "He didn't bother to tell you that he wasn't actually going to kill me because he was feeling very sour, but he really had to take me away. That's what he says, and he's never lied to me. And even by letting me come visit you he said he was breaking some rules or something. I don't know who made the rules in the first place or what his situation is, but he's really risking a lot just because I told him I missed you and wanted to come home."

"At least you're safe now," Dorlian said, giving vent to a relieved sigh. "You'll never have to go back to that awful… awful _thing_ ever again."

Duo shook his head. "I'm leaving in a week. I promised the Beast I'd only stay for a little while, and he's been so good to me. It just wouldn't be fair if I didn't keep my side of the agreement. He's trusting me a lot by letting me go off like this."

Dorlian frowned. "You're telling me you mean to go _back_?"

"_Yes_, Da." A note of pleading came into his voice. "And please don't try to make me stay, okay? I gave my word."

His father sighed and promised not to nag. "He _is_ treating you well, right?"

Duo nodded emphatically. "He's incredibly wealthy. You remember how rich the manor was? Well, my room is this enormous library, bigger than the one at White Fang University, and I have a huge comfortable bed, and lots of clothes, and this fancy chandelier, and get this an honest-to-God enchanted mirror. He enchanted it himself. I used it all the time to check up on you and Relena and Quatre. And he feeds me well, too. He does this bit of magic where these green hands zoom around and take away the dishes and bring warm food, like invisible servants, except not. He uses magic for his gardens, too. If nothing else, you know how the Beast feels about his garden, so he magically ensures that all the plants will grow up healthy. It's like a little paradise. And the Beast has never really forbidden me anything. I have the run of the manor."

Dorlian's eyebrows had risen so high throughout this monologue that they were in danger of disappearing off of his head entirely. "That's impressive. But, Duo… you know these mages. Heero's a good boy, but some others… they can get pretty tricky sometimes. Has he ever done, you know, anything _ dodgy_, any sort of coercion…?"

Before his father could even finish his question, Duo was shaking his head, braid flying with the energy of it. "Nope. Not ever. The only thing even close to it is the fear-coercion spell he used on you, and _I _ only experienced that spell once, that first night when you were with me. The Beast reserves his magic for good things, or when he's bored. He's a powerful and responsible mage."

"All right, Duo," Dorlian said, doubt heavy in his voice. "If you say so. Just don't let yourself be bribed and blinded by all the pretty things he can do or give you."

"I've known him for a year," Duo retorted. "I think I would have noticed if he had a cruel character. I lived in White Fang for fifteen years, remember? You don't lose your touch at recognizing people like that. The Beast is nothing less than noble."

Dorlian made a low grumbling noise, as if to say, "Drop it."

"Da," Duo said with a sigh, "he's not as evil as you'd like to pretend he is. Don't you believe me anymore? Has a year made me so strange?"

"Of course it hasn't," his father hastened to reassure him, giving him a quick hug. "I just worry. I'm so happy you're alive and well."

Duo looked somber for a moment. "I wish you hadn't grieved so much over me, Father. I saw you in the mirror every day, and it nearly broke my heart to see you so destroyed. I worried for you."

"You know you're my favorite, son," Dorlian said fondly, ruffling Duo's hair, to Duo's dismay. "I just… I expected such wonderful things of you, and to have your promise snuffed, just like that…" He shuddered. "It was… an indescribable madness."

Duo kicked his feet a little. "At least now you know that the Beast didn't hurt me in any way. And that he's not going to. Believe it or not, he's very gentle."

"Good with the kids, right?" Dorlian chuckled.

"A wailing toddler would baffle him," Duo laughed. "So would a happy one. He wouldn't know how to keep up the streak of good luck." Unable to sit still any longer, Duo hopped up from the couch and began to dance around, humming under his breath. Dorlian watched him in amusement. Even when only playing around, Duo's grace was dazzling.

"It feels so _good_ to back here, Father!" Duo burst out suddenly, flopping down into the closest chair and melting into it like butter on a hot pancake. He grinned. "Ahhh, the air is just as I remembered it. Home, sweet home!"

"Oh!" Dorlian said, reminded, "your brother and sister are coming over today to check up on me."

Duo stretched in his armchair like a cat in the sun with the same satisfied smile. "I can't wait to see them. It'll be a great surprise!"

The afternoon played out true to Duo's confident prediction. Relena screamed when she saw him and nearly tumbled him off his feet with her hug; Quatre restrained himself rather better and greeted him without the ear-splitting shriek, though his hug came very close to cracking a few ribs. Duo talked on and on about the manor and what he'd experienced there until his mouth was dry. Relena was fascinated by the Beast's magic and the depths of Duo's wardrobe, and Quatre was impressed by the library offered his little brother.

"Neh, big brother," Duo teased, "you're not _jealous_, are you?"

Quatre rolled his eyes. "I am _not_. Well," he amended in response to Duo's knowing smirk, "perhaps just a little bit. A manuscript of 'Zero Visions' is so hard to obtain… But I would rather not have gone through what you did."

Duo shrugged cheerfully. "Whatever you say."

His siblings were only too pleased to feed him the latest local gossip and update him regarding their relationships' status. When Relena told him about she and Heero's handfasting, Duo groaned, "Oh, I wish I didn't have to miss it!"

"Why would you miss it?" Relena asked in confusion. "Aren't you going to stay?"

"Nope," Duo said. "The Beast asked me to come back in a week." He held up his right hand and lifted his ring finger, which bore the Beast's gift. "The Beast gave me this. It's a magical thingy. I don't know how it does what it does, but it brought me here and it'll bring me back to the Beast."

Relena exchanged a meaningful look with Quatre, but didn't say anything further, instead turning the conversation back to Heero. Hana and Shigeta had pulled a considerable amount of money out of their savings and hired a mage-tutor from the closest town, and Heero was making excellent progress. The tutor said that Heero had an unusually potent Mage-Gift, Relena related proudly.

"Forgive her," Quatre said dryly. "All she can talk about right now are Heero, her handfasting plans, Heero, what she'll wear, Heero…"

Relena laughed and punched him lightly, and Duo grinned to see the look of exaggerated, martyr-like patience on Quatre's face. His brother and sister constantly played around like that, and it had been one of the things he'd most sorely missed while away.

Relena cooked dinner that night, much to his joy. Though the food tasted a bit strange to Duo, who had become accustomed to the incredible dishes the green hands brought, it was still wonderful and he ate with relish. He went to bed that night tired but content.

Relena and Quatre chatted a bit further with Dorlian. Their father had experienced a rush of vitality that day, right down to his color improving and his manner growing as quick as it had been back when he was one of the shrewdest merchants in White Fang. Understandably, the only topic on their father's mind was the reappearance of his son, and they agreed with him that Duo looked fantastic. Finally, however, Dorlian succumbed to weariness and bade them goodnight with a smile.

The two siblings walked out together, and through an unspoken accord, before going their separate ways, went to the fields to talk of their youngest brother. There were some things that they could not speak of in front of their father.

It was cold out, with a great harvest moon hanging in the chill sky, surrounded by a court of fiercely twinkling stars. Relena said quietly to Quatre, "Brother, I'm worried about Duo."

"Me too," Quatre concurred solemnly.

"He keeps talking about the Beast. It's almost indecent. He shouldn't be defending the monster that took him away from his family. It's as if he's forgotten all the pain that abominable demon caused both us and him."

"It's possible he might have," Quatre suggested, looking downcast at the very idea. "Duo's told us that the Beast is a mage of great power and skill."

Relena looked uneasy. "Do you think it's possible…"

"That Duo is under the control of the Beast? I think it's quite likely." Quatre frowned. "That ring is suspicious… Would Heero look Duo over for us, do you think? Just to check for traces of foreign magic?"

"I don't know if he's at a sufficient level yet, but if I know Heero, he'll certainly try," Relena replied. "He's fond of Duo and wouldn't want to see him under the control of some foul Beast."

"I've read bad things about Beasts-born," Quatre murmured. He massaged his temples with a hand. "They seem good, but they're all vicious underneath. We have to convince Duo to stay with us, for his own safety. God, I don't want to go through this last year all over again."

Relena shivered, the thin wind whipping her wheat-blonde hair into her eyes. "Same here. I don't think Father could bear it…"

"It's a miracle that Duo's even survived the year." Briefly Quatre glanced towards heaven. "And that the Beast allowed his prey to slip out of his clutches."

"Don't talk like that, Quatre," Relena said with another shudder. "It conjures such awful imagery."

Quatre laid a comforting hand on Relena's shoulder. "I'm sorry, sister. But we do have to face reality. Duo's in a very dangerous position."

"Then for his own protection, Duo has to stay here," Relena declared firmly. "I mean, he just has to. There's no way he can leave."

"We can't simply take the ring away," Quatre cautioned. "Duo's such a free spirit. He'd go back to the Beast's on foot."

"Then we'll beg him to stay," Relena said matter-of-factly. "Maybe a week is the amount of time the Beast will have power over Duo. Maybe after that, the Beast's evil magic will begin to fade."

Quatre shrugged. "It doesn't matter, as long as he stays here, where it's safe."


	16. Chapter XIV

**The Ice Prince: Chapter XIV**  
by Meiran Chang

Duo had a good week at home. Everyone was glad to see him back, including his siblings' partners and their families, and he was pampered as though he were the lost Peacecraft prince. His brother and sister absolutely refused to let him lift a hand inside the house. While it was sweet of them, it did make life a little bit boring. All he could really do was eat, lie around, read, and tinker with Quatre's flute. At the Beast's, there was always something to do, whether it be walk in the garden, or play with the mirror, or explore the manor, or explore his closet, or talk to his friend.

The only cloud of Duo's homecoming was the shady behavior of his beloved brother and sister. They simply would not listen to him when he defended the Beast. They would attack him without mercy despite all Duo could tell them, and then change the topic abruptly as soon as Duo got on the winning side of the argument.

He didn't know _what_ was going on with those two. "I know something you don't know" had always been an effective way to taunt him when he was a child, and the clandestine way Relena and Quatre skittered around was highly suspicious. While he loved them dearly and was overjoyed to see them again, their secretiveness was an unnecessary aggravation. His father was, of course, sweetness incarnate all week long.

Evening of the seventh and last day found Duo sprawled on the cheerfully flowery couch in the sitting room reading one of Quatre's old, dog-eared books, a relic from White Fang. This one was a particularly dry historical tome chronicling the Peacecraft dynasty. Quatre must have loved it, since the pages were limp with handling and there were notes and underlines on every page. It was a great work of scholarly achievement about as thrilling as watching a fork, though even the author, who was making a real effort to remain monotonous, couldn't help but get excited when he spoke of the lost Peacecraft Heir.

The sound of footsteps and soft voices broke his trance and Duo lifted his nose from between the book's pages as Relena and Quatre entered the sitting room. They were in stride, looking serious and determined. At once the image of all-blonde guerilla troops preparing for assault popped into Duo's mind. He shook the image off and tilted his eyebrows quizzically at them.

"Duo, could we have a talk with you?" Relena asked, hands clutched together in front of her. His sister looked nice tonight, dressed in warm cotton dyed a demure blue by her fiancée's hands. Quatre was still in carpenter's gear covered in wood shavings, having been busy all day making furniture for his and Trowa's farm together.

"Of course you can," Duo said with a grin. He patted the spaces on either side of him. "Sit down. How are you two? Workin' hard?"

"We're fine," Quatre murmured, brushing the wood shavings from his overalls and sitting down beside him. Relena followed suit, settling on Duo's other side and primly crossing her ankles.

"So… what is it?" Duo asked, after a brief pause.

"Well… Duo, are you really planning to leave tonight?" Relena began, with a glance towards Quatre.

Duo nodded. "Sure thing. You guys know that."

Relena and Quatre exchanged another look, and this time, Quatre sighed. "Do you really think that's wise, little brother?" he asked.

"Why wouldn't it be?" Duo frowned. "Look, what's going on with you two? Are you keeping something from me? It really feels like you are, and I bet it has something to do with the Beast. You guys just don't understand that he's really a good person, that he's "

"_controlling_ you!" Relena interrupted angrily. Duo only stared at her, dumbstruck, as she corrected herself. "At least, that's what we think. That's the only possible reason you could be _defending_ him after all he's done."

"Oh, is that so." Duo crossed his arms and glared. "I don't know whether to be offended or appalled. Relena, you're smarter than this. Do I ever lie?"

"You wouldn't be able to help it if you were under the Beast's control," Relena said earnestly. "You'd _think_ you were telling the truth. You'd be absolutely _convinced_ you were telling the truth."

"I asked him on my birthday if he had any control over me, and he said no!" Duo protested. "Besides, Heero checked me over for foreign magic the minute he first saw me, and he didn't find any."

"Heero's still only an Apprentice," Relena retorted. "He's not the powerful, skilled mage your 'friend' the Beast is. It's very possible the Beast just hid his magic well and that's why Heero couldn't see anything."

"Heero told me the magic on my ring was pure."

Relena shrugged. "So the monster got his hands on an article of white magic."

"He enchanted my ring just for me! I _know_ what his magic feels like!"

"That's not the point," Quatre broke in, seeing Relena being backed into a metaphorical corner. "Listen to me, Duo. The Beast has done terrible things to you and to us. He's taken you away from us. He made us think you were dead. He threatened to kill Father. Who knows what fits into his twisted view of the world? You mustn't go back there. It wouldn't be safe."

Duo's violet eyes blazed. "I thought you two trusted me. Am I wrong? God's eyes, I can't believe you two. After all I've been saying all this week! Do I _look_ like someone under the control of an evil creature? I'm telling you that it's okay! I am _not_ possessed! The Beast wouldn't do that to anyone and _especially_ not to me!" Fleetingly Duo thought of telling them exactly why the Beast would never harm him, then thought better of it, knowing that to add "Because he loves me" to his statement would make Relena balk and Quatre turn pale.

"_Everyone_ who's possessed says that they're not," Relena pointed out infuriatingly.

"At least stay one more week," Quatre added pleadingly, seeing that Duo was beginning to get that glint in his eye that meant he would not budge from his position.

"The Beast asked me to be back within one week," Duo said firmly. "He's expecting me back tomorrow, I can't just "

"It's powerful magically when someone does anything of their own will," Relena said with an air of knowledge, though she glanced at Quatre quickly to make sure she was right. "Who knows what awful spell he's waiting to perform the second you get back? It's best to cut this now while you can. Throw that gaudy ring away."

Duo looked down at the ring with a furrowed brow. "I will _not_. The Beast gave me this as a birthday gift, and I, for one, think it's beautiful."

"Duo, please. We're just asking you to stay a little bit longer," Quatre wheedled, his river-blue eyes filled with genuine concern. "If you stay, it might break the Beast's hold on you."

"I'm not possessed!" Duo prodded Quatre's arm. "See, I did that on my own. The Beast didn't tell me to poke you!"

"How do you know?" Relena retorted.

"Come on, Duo. Look to your future," Quatre begged, taking Duo's hands in his own warm ones. "Stay with us. Just an extra week, so we can make sure you're free of the Beast."

Duo shifted uncomfortably. "There's nothing to be free of," he muttered unhappily. "You're inventing a phantom threat. The Beast wouldn't hurt me. I know him, you don't, and I know he would never hurt me."

"Then what do you call what he's done to you this past year?" Relena demanded. "Was that kindness? Was that caution? Was that real concern?"

"Stop it!" Duo shouted, looking torn. "He couldn't help taking me away. He had to. And he's always been good to me!"

"Duo." Quatre put a comforting arm around his brother's shoulder. Duo was looking distinctly miserable now. "Look, it's your choice. If… if it worries you that much… just stay one extra week. He was probably being vague when he said come back in a week. Two weeks won't hurt anyone, and it'll make us happy. What do you say?"

Duo didn't say anything. Relena seized the moment. "Duo, we really are worried about you. It's not that great a sacrifice to stay with us for a little longer. We've missed you for so long. It's really you who holds this family together sometimes. We love you, and we want the best for you."

"Fine," Duo muttered, falling back limply. "Fine. Shut up. I'll stay. But _just_ the extra week," he warned as his siblings' faces grew bright. "No longer."

"That's good," Relena said cheerfully, and kissed his cheek. "There, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

Duo shrugged.

"You did the right thing," Quatre said encouragingly.

His little brother glanced towards him, violet eyes lovely as always, reminding Quatre strongly of why Duo had been called Beauty at fifteen. "I'm breaking my promise for you two."

"It'll be all right." Quatre got up and hauled Duo off the sofa with a smile and a quick hug. "Now get to bed, brother."

Relena said proudly, "I knew you would do the right thing, Duo. Never forget that we love you and anything we do is for your own good."

Duo briefly considered informing her that he was eighteen, not fifteen, but instead shook his head, bade them goodnight, and went upstairs to bed, taking off his ring and putting it on the night table. Of the many things he felt that night, "right" was not one of them.


	17. Chapter XV

_**The Ice Prince  
Chapter XV**_

Dorlian was overjoyed when Duo trudged into the sun-dappled kitchen the next morning and informed him that he'd be staying an extra week. His father's rejoicing lifted Duo's spirits only a little, for Duo felt like a betrayer. He could not forget the burning intensity of the Beast's eyes that evening a week ago. His thoughts were constantly tugged back to him and the hell and grief he must be going through. Duo _missed_ him, with the constant and dull ache that had marked much of his year at the Beast's. 

Guilt weighed heavily on Duo's heart despite all Relena and Quatre could tell him. Quatre insisted that the Beast had been vague in saying "one week," and Relena was openly hostile towards him, calling him a foul monster and restrained only by a hard glance from Quatre. There was no magic mirror here, no way to tell how his erstwhile companion was faring, and Duo worried. He wasn't reassured by his siblings' promises and had trouble getting to sleep at night.

On the eleventh night he stayed at his father's home, Duo had a vivid dream. The Beast was in his treasured garden, watering his favorite black roses. The look on his face was of immense loneliness and sadness. He moved with agonizing slowness, the quick and precise grace which Duo remembered gone. Suddenly, pain flashed across the Beast's face, and the watering can clattered to the stone path as his muscles jerked. He fell to his knees. Another burst of pain reduced his resistance to nothing, and the Beast collapsed.

Duo woke up in shock, his heart beating madly. The moon and stars peeked curiously through his curtains as he pressed his face against his coverlet in grief, unbound and tangled hair snaking everywhere.

'How could I do that to him?' he berated himself, rocking silently. 'Is it his fault he's a Beast? He's kind and good and he doesn't deserve to have his heart broken! I'll never forgive myself if he dies because of me.'

Resolute, Duo batted his hair out of his eyes, reached out to his end table and took a quill and some paper from it. He dipped the quill in the inkwell and wrote,  
_  
Relena, Quatre, Father: I've gone to the Beast's. He needs me now more than you do. You should know he's not going to hurt me. Please believe me. I am not enchanted; I am in full possession of my own mind, and common decency says that the Beast doesn't deserve to be betrayed and I shouldn't have broken my promise. I'll come back later. With love, Duo._

He placed the note on the end table, new ink shining darkly, and laid the quill beside it. The brass-plated inkwell gleamed golden approval as Duo took his ring, which rested beside his lamp every night, and slid it on his ring finger.

The simple action calmed him and strengthened his will. He pulled his coverlet close around him, feeling much better, murmured, "Please take me to the Beast," and fell asleep.

--------------------

When he awoke, he was lying on the faded plum canopy bed in the eldritch room the Beast had taken him to a week and a half ago. Through the torn curtains hiding the balcony, daylight broke with a cheerful vengeance. Relief flooded through Duo's system, and he hopped out of bed.

The relief drained away, however, when Duo realized that without the little magic mirror, he had no idea how to get out of this wing of the manor and to the Beast. He wasn't sure if his dream had been real, but it certainly felt urgent. There was a mirror on the wall, but it was much cracked, and Duo sensed no enchantment about it. He glanced at his shattered reflection and winced; his hair was in desperate need of a brush, as it usually was every morning. That was the problem with such long hair, but considering that he'd spent all his life growing it, he wasn't about to cut it now.

His short-term solution was to utilize the band around his wrist and quickly tie his hair into a ponytail, not wanting to waste time with an elaborate braid. Hopefully, he scanned the room for some water to wash his face with, feeling the general nastiness that everyone feels in the morning.

Finding no water, he pulled his robe close around him to ward off the chilly morning and stepped out onto the balcony to continue his search when he caught sight of the same black rose he'd discovered on the eve of his birthday. Then, it had been in a state of blooming health. It remained, suspended in mid-air in a bell glass, but its head drooped perilously, bereft of adornment aside from a few tenaciously clinging petals. Inquisitive but vaguely alarmed, Duo drew closer. Another petal, shriveled and dry, drifted wearily down. The heavenly, powerful radiance that had emanated from the rose had been reduced to a weak glow.

He stared at it for a moment. Something about that rose nagged at the edges of his mind. He wasn't sure why, but it seemed important. The answer kept tugging at his consciousness and slipping off again.

Duo shook his head. Beside the bell glass was a small bowl of water, and Duo dipped his hands into it and washed his face. The water was crisp and cold, efficiently waking him up. A small, cleverly disguised trash receptacle masqueraded as a minor sculpture at the foot of the little table, and Duo rinsed his mouth and spat into it. He glanced back at the rose, which hung limply like an evil portent, then shook his head, swiped the shredded curtains aside and went back into the old room.

He paused briefly to search for slippers, as he didn't fancy trotting about barefoot, and for something that would be better proof against the frigid weather than his thin robe. He found both in the form of enormous blue slippers that flapped when he walked and a thick, fur-trimmed winter coat he probably looked ridiculous in. He pushed open the door to the room, surveyed the hallway, chose a direction, and headed off.

Hours passed. There were labyrinthine twists and turns, hidden doorways, and endless halls. If Duo didn't know any better, he'd have sworn the Beast had modified with the passages with magic. As it was, he got increasingly more frustrated. His only landmarks were the paintings and mounted displays sprinkled on the walls, and after a while they all began to look alike. Duo entered briefly into one green-hung room to locate a quill, an inkwell, and some paper, and carried the materials with him, mapping as he went along. With much crossing-out, he scribbled an extensive blueprint of the wing. Because he had no idea where he was going, however, all he could do was hope he'd find the Beast eventually.

Every once in a while, Duo glanced out one of the floor-to-ceiling windows to determine the time. At first, everything was all right. He could convince himself that things weren't that pressing and the Beast was really fine. The sun helped by keeping the winter sky lit with its usual clarity. However, as time went on and Duo turned corner after corner, door after door, the sun dipped progressively lower, and Duo's spirits dipped with it. His nightmare of the Beast's collapse was all the more real with every passing second. As the sky began to darken, a pressing need to find him pushed Duo onward.

Sunset found him nearly mad with panic. He had several wrinkled and worn pages covered in maps shoved in his pocket, the ink had spilled when he tripped on the edge of the winter coat he was wearing, and in all the rooms he'd searched, he hadn't found the Beast. He couldn't even see the gardens from this wing of the manor. Duo was certain that if the Beast knew what he was going through, he would have rescued him from this nightmare long ago.

Sunset became evening, but Duo vowed not to give up until he collapsed from fatigue. It was only right. The Beast would have done the same for him. He moved forward, but staggered, caught his foot on a tear in the carpet and pitched forward against a door, shoving it open.

He would have cursed if he'd had breath to spare, or maybe wept, face-down on the floor, nose pressed against royal blue. He was so damn tired, so exhausted…. Was he ever going to get out of this infernal wing?

Then he looked up and suddenly, the entire day was worth it.

How many times had he passed by that familiar wall hanging on his way to the Dining Hall, coming from the gardens? The winter trees and the iced-over lake depicted seemed to him the very emblem of joy. Near the wall hanging was a stained glass window, one he'd paused to admire more than once. A thrill of success ran through his weary spirit as he got to his feet.

Now there was no time to waste.

In his haste, Duo all but flew, losing one of the slippers that had been tripping him all day. Finally, at the end of another familiar corridor, gleamed the glass doors. He pushed them open at a full run, trusting to their ponderous weight to keep them from shattering against the wall, and scanned the garden, so hopeful and desperate that it felt like physical pain in his chest.

Lying on the cold stone path, clothing rumpled, motionless, lay the Beast, exactly as Duo had seen him in his dream. The stars and moon which had watched him with such alien inquisitiveness were now the audience as Duo ran to him, losing his other slipper in the process, and knelt by his side. The Beast's eyes were closed, and Duo couldn't see his chest rising and falling as he breathed. A rending pain tore through Duo as, for a moment, he thought him dead.

Shaking, he checked the Beast for vital signs once more, and this time, he did it properly, with two fingers to the wrist and head to chest. The Beast was alive, but terribly weak. Duo could only faintly hear his heart beating, and his pulse was staggered. Frantically Duo's gaze raked the garden for something to wake him with. It lit upon the watering can, and Duo upended it over the Beast's face. Cold water splashed down. He waited anxiously for some sign of life.

The Beast's eyes opened, revealing that familiar crystal blue, and a powerful relief swept through Duo. The Beast wasn't looking good, though; his eyes were out of focus. He blinked and uttered a soft, almost inaudible groan, shifting his head away from the moonlight. He stared steadily at nothing for a moment, blinking a few times, before he raised his gaze to meet Duo's.

"You broke your promise," he whispered. There was nothing of accusation in his tone, only a deep, grave sadness. His voice was still gentle, though hoarse, and he spoke with agonizing slowness. "I missed you…."

"I'm sorry, Beast." Duo bowed his head. "I really am. But I came back! So isn't it going to be --"

"Too late," the Beast sighed weakly. Duo started and stared in disbelief. "But I'm glad you're here, Duo… I can die in peace. God has let me see you one more time…."

Once more, he closed his eyes.

"Don't say things like that!" In a movement born of instinct and tenderness, Duo cradled the Beast's head in his lap, stroking his forehead gently. "I'll stay with you. Forever, if you ask me to. I promise. Oh Beast, I'm so sorry. I know I've been an idiot. When I couldn't find you today it felt like I was going to die, it really did. I want to be with you, Beast. I love you."

The Beast remained quite motionless.

"Please, Beast, you can't -- die…please…"

He became suddenly aware that tears had escaped his eyes, burning down his face. The wind slapped against him like a sheet of needles and whipped his hair against his face like a she-demon. He felt dead inside.

He hadn't been able to understand the mortal nature of the love the Beast had given him until suddenly, that reassuring bulwark was no longer there. He'd thrown that noble love away, left it lying on the floor like an irresponsible child, and when he realized its value at last, it was too late and the treasure had shattered. He had discovered too late what a true love was. The Beast was dead, and by Duo's hand.

He held the Beast tightly, too stricken by grief and guilt to do anything but exist in the moment. He'd stopped crying, too numb for the effort, and the tears dried on his face.

Then the sound of wind chimes filled the air, and Duo looked up. Snow was falling… but what snow was this? It twinkled like tiny white diamonds drifting down from heaven. A shaft of moonlight broke through the heavy winter clouds and illuminated the body of the Beast. The snow fell faster, with more energy, more fury, until the Beast was covered in it.

Infuriated at nature's presumption, Duo lifted a shaking hand to brush the snow off his dead love's body.

The Beast moved.

Duo froze as the Beast, still covered from head to toe in the snow, sat up, then got to his feet and began to shake the snow off of himself in silence. As the glittering snow fell from him, however, it wasn't the Beast's familiar visage that greeted him….

His first impression was of an ice prince from the fairy tales his father had read to him when he was a child. The stranger was a young man, tall, with crystal blue eyes and long, pale gold hair that fell past his slim waist. He had a noble, intelligent face, of such solemn beauty that it seemed appropriate to a statue of a god, not the visage of a mere mortal. He was clothed in gauzy white that made him look like a demi-angel in the moonlight.

The stranger stretched and examined himself, from his elegant hands to his long legs, with a look of puzzlement, then disbelief. He glanced around with those straight-lashed, ice blue eyes, and saw Duo, who remained sitting on the garden path, shivering, staring with wide eyes and no words. His eyes brightened.

"Duo," he said, and smiled.

The voice, the eyes… were the Beast's voice, the Beast's eyes. Even the smile had the hesitancy the Beast had shown in Duo's first few weeks with him. The stranger offered his hand to Duo, and Duo accepted it and was drawn up to his feet by a warm, firm grip.

"What have you done to the Beast?" Duo said softly, unable to break contact with the ice blue of the other man's eyes. The stranger had not let go of his hand.

"I am the Beast," he said. Another shy smile. "It's a long story. Will you come inside with me?" His hand tightened on Duo's. "You're freezing, Duo. My God, you don't even have any shoes on! Are you trying to kill yourself, love? We've got to warm you up."

Duo nodded, completely speechless, and allowed the ice prince -- the Beast? -- to lead him indoors.

A while later, Duo was clutching a steamy mug of hot chocolate and sitting in an enormous armchair in front of a roaring, crackling fire, having been fed and warmed by the stranger, who sat across from him.

"Are you really the Beast?" Duo began.

The young man -- barely older than Duo, really -- nodded. "Yes. A fairy turned me into the Beast because she thought I had it too easy." His face looked briefly sour. "She wanted me to suffer. Said it would make me grow into a better person. The only way I could return to my old body was to have the person I loved freely promise to stay with me. While I was under the spell, I couldn't explain a single thing to him.

"It was hopeless. First of all, I don't like women. This multiplied the difficulty, because…well…that's not common. Second, I am -- was -- a Beast. A monster. What sane person would agree to stay with a Beast? What kind of person could love a Beast?"

Duo delicately cleared his throat. The young man smiled his shy, affectionate smile. "You're different, Duo. Rare. You looked past my appearance, and you saw me for who I was. I'm not cruel or evil… just another man, and you saw that. You had the heart to let me show myself. That's why I love you."

"You feel like the Beast," Duo said. "You have the same air. And eyes, and voice, and manner…"

"That's because I am the Beast," the young man answered calmly. "Really." He stretched again. "Can I mention that it feels marvelous to be human? To see through human eyes again… Thank you."

Duo's lips quirked. "Would it be appropriate to say, 'any time'?"

The young man chuckled. Duo set his cup of chocolate down beside the foot of his armchair and asked, "Beast, now that the spell has been broken, will you tell me your name?"

"Well, let's see if you can guess it," the young man said, blue eyes fond and amused. "I'll give you a hint: I disappeared nineteen years ago."

Duo lifted an eyebrow. "But you look like you're nineteen yourself."

"While I was a Beast, I didn't age."

"Oh, Beast, don't make me guess," Duo pleaded. "Just tell me. I think I've earned the right to know."

The young man sighed. "You have very expressive eyes, my heart. I can't deny you. Very well… since you've asked, my… Well. My birth name is Zechs Milliardo Peacecraft."

"Whoa!" Duo's eyes widened. "You mean --"

Zechs nodded.

"So that's what happened to the lost Peacecraft prince."

"Is that what they called me, then?" Zechs said lightly. "I wondered. I was always a bit too depressed to read up on it. May I ask you something, Duo?"

"Sure."

Duo had the impression that the Beast -- Zechs -- had mentally gone through several drafts of what he was about to say. "Duo… when you finally found me in the garden and talked to me, I was still alive. I heard your promise, and… well, this is going to sound absolutely horrible, but I really don't mean it badly, I just would like to know if --"

"Zechs," the name sounded strange on Duo's lips, "please spit it out."

"What I mean to say is, will you honor your promise and stay with me?"

"Yes," Duo said. He glanced away from the prince. "I know I don't have a very good field record so far, but that's a promise I'll keep, before God."

The prince rose, crossed over to Duo, and knelt. Duo looked at him curiously and then with delight as he said, "Then Duo, I offer you my crown, if you'll take it. It's not worth anything without you."

Joy blossomed within him. Zechs looked up hopefully, and what he saw on Duo's face made him smile his sweet, joyful smile. Duo got to his feet, indicating Zechs should as well, and took his love's hands.

"If you can love me, Beast --Zechs -- after what I've done to you…I…" He couldn't finish his sentence, but instead reached up and kissed the prince with all the emotion in him. Zechs seemed to be caught by surprise for a moment, but rose to the occasion magnificently, wrapping his arms around Duo and kissing him fiercely back.

They finally broke apart out of a mutual need for air, but both of them were loath to break off their embrace. The white fabric of Zechs's clothing was soft against Duo's cheek, and the prince's arms were warm and comforting. They remained like that, peaceful and glad, until --

"How sweet," drawled an amused catty voice.


	18. Chapter XVI

_**The Ice Prince  
**__**Chapter XVI**_

Duo jumped at the unexpected interruption and looked up at Zechs for explanation. Zechs looked irritated and said loudly, an arm around Duo's shoulder, "Dorothy, go away."

"Dorothy?" Duo queried.

"Why so rude, o noble prince?" taunted the high, sly voice. It seemed to come from closer than before.

"You'll see, Duo," Zechs sighed.

A delicate fairy fluttered into the room. She had long blonde hair and vivid, electric blue eyes. Forked grayish eyebrows rested above her eyes. She wore a plum schoolgirl's outfit and a pleated white skirt, had fragile gossamer wings, and looked altogether too pleased with herself. She crossed her legs, hovering in mid-air, tilted her head to one side, and said with an insolent smile, "Hello, Zechs. Are you glad to see me?"

"No," Zechs said frankly. "Why are you here?"

"Don't I have a right to check up on my favorite princeling, all grown up and in love?" The fairy fluttered closer, around the two of them. Duo pressed closer to Zechs, an arm around his love's waist, eyeing her warily. She stopped in front of Duo and peered into his eyes.

"So you're Duo," she said, with another catty smile. "Well, I'm Dorothy. It _is _a pleasure to meet you. Wufei's told me all about you."

"Wufei?"

"Oh, if I know him," she said airily, "he'll be here soon. He has a special interest in you, you know."

"Oh."

Dorothy fluttered around the room, inspecting it. "Very classy, Zechs!" she called out. "I like this shade of green over here, near the window. Of course, _I_ would have chosen a good, solid pink." She giggled. "Maybe even a daring touch of black! Or would that be too angsty for you?"

"Were you the fairy who turned Zechs into the Beast?" Duo wanted to know, irritated.

The fairy flipped around, eyes alight, clearly delighted by the question. "I'm so glad you asked!" she cooed. "Yes, I am, and I must say, I've never had a finer, more exquisite moment, magically speaking. I even have reasons this time. Two, even! Number one," she held up a long-nailed finger, "was to temper him. Put him into the fire and see if he would melt or become steel. He'll be a much better ruler now. He's gone through bad things and come out all right."

"Thank you, I think," Zechs said.

"Oh, you're welcome, dear," Dorothy said with another of her feline smiles. "Anyway, reason number two," and she brandished two fingers in the air, "was so that he'd meet you, Duo!"

"Did you think of that reason just now," Zechs asked, looking pained, "or is it true?"

Dorothy pouted exaggeratedly. "Fairies can't lie, you silly boy. Of course it's true. You were moping around too much to be healthy, sweet prince! I figured that if I put you in here and prevented you from aging, you'd find your true love soon enough. And then your boy would steady you and make you an even better sovereign."

"He was a fine ruler already," Duo shot back in defense. "I read about him in school, and everyone loved him. You didn't have to put him through so much pain!"

"But if I hadn't, you would never have met him. He would have been past your time," Dorothy pointed out with a simpering smile.

"This is true," Duo conceded.

"Don't argue with her, love," Zechs whispered as Dorothy returned to remarking on the interior decoration. "She's raving mad. I think it's best for us to sit down until she's quite done."

Duo shrugged. "All right," he said, and sat down on the sofa. Zechs sat beside him, watching Dorothy through half-lidded eyes as she prattled on and on.

"Dorothy!"

The new voice was a man's voice, assertive and strong, though a little high. "Dorothy, you idiot, where are you?"

"Wufei, love," the pink fairy trilled, "I'm right here with Duo and Zechs!"

Another fairy burst through the door, looking highly irate. He had almond-shaped obsidian eyes, a bronze, handsome face, dragonfly wings, and thin lips pressed tight in annoyance. Duo at once felt that he knew him. "Dorothy, you brainless donkey, what are you doing here?" the male fairy snapped.

Dorothy looked wounded and flitted to a piteous stop. "I was just chatting with Duo and Zechs, darling. What kept you?"

"I had to step in for Mathilde," the white-clad fairy sighed. "Poor Cinderella nearly went into cardiac arrest. I don't think she'd ever seen an Asian before."

Dorothy giggled.

"_Anyway_," the dark-eyed fairy said pointedly, and turned to Duo and Zechs. He bowed formally. "My name is Wufei, and I apologize to both of you for Dorothy's antics. Prince Zechs, none of us had any idea she was planning to transform you into a Beast or we would have stopped her. Once the deed was done, however, no one could reverse it."

Zechs nodded in understanding. "Forgiven."

Dorothy sniffed. "I did it for his own good, you know. Besides, don't you think his story will make a delightful musical?"

"Shut up, woman. And Duo... I apologize to you as well."

"It's okay," Duo said, and grinned at the male fairy. "If it hadn't happened, I probably wouldn't have met Zechs. And _then_ where would I be?" Zechs smiled.

"This is just out of curiosity, Duo, but... do you remember me?" Wufei asked.

"Obviously he doesn't, you fool," Dorothy said haughtily, clearly not having forgiven him for telling her to shut up. "Otherwise he would have said something by now. It's not in his nature to keep quiet about such things."

"And how did you come to be such an expert on his nature, you demented pink monstrosity?" the other fairy retorted.

"I'll have you know that I've had my eye on the both of them for longer than you have," Dorothy replied, crossing her arms. "I thought they'd mesh well, anyway, and wasn't I right? Well, wasn't I?"

Wufei glared at her. She lifted her chin and stared back.

Zechs and Duo glanced at each other with raised brows as the temperature in the room began to plummet.

"Um... Wufei?" Duo called, hoping to put a halt to their stubborn feud before icicles began forming. The male fairy looked over at him.

Dorothy crowed, "Hah! I outlasted you _that_ time!"

Wufei ignored her. "What is it, Duo?"

"I think I do recognize you," Duo offered. "I don't know where, but I know I've seen you before."

Wufei looked pleased. "Let me tell you. Do you remember that dream you had, the very first night you spent with the Beast?"

Something clicked into place in Duo's mind. He was ecstatic. "Oh, I remember! You were that boy, the one who told me everything would be okay!" Zechs looked appreciative.

"Did the dream help you at all?" Wufei asked. He shot another glare at his partner, who was bobbing around the room again, cooing at shiny objects. "After I got wind of what Dorothy had done, I felt the responsibility to do something. Appearing in a dream was the limit of interference that was allowed."

"Yeah, it helped," Duo reassured him. "I told my father. It made him feel better, too."

"That's good," Wufei said, satisfied. He glanced at Duo and Zechs. "You two can handle it from here on in, right?"

"Yes," Zechs said, looking over his shoulder at Dorothy, who was now humming to herself as she inspected a silver paperweight on the fireplace mantel. His pale gold eyebrows knitted together as he added, in a softer voice, "Could you please get _her_ out of here? I can't hold ill will against someone so mentally disturbed, but she's... she's..."

"Annoying?" Wufei supplied, smirking. "Of course. I'll take her away soon enough. If you two ever need any help, please don't hesitate to call on me. Zechs, you're an expert mage; you know how to contact the Board of Fairies."

Zechs nodded. Duo looked at him with respect; contacting the representatives of another sentient species was very impressive magic.

"Very well then," Wufei said. "I give you my blessings, and this advice: ride to the Maxwell farm tomorrow, and explain things to them. And Zechs, please make peace with Duo's father. He's going to be your father-in-law, you know. He's old enough to have been young when you were still the Heir, so if you drop the fact that you're the lost prince, you'll find he'll warm up to you very quickly." Wufei looked cynically amused. "He has always wanted to return to White Fang. Relena, I predict, will be absolutely astounded when she finds out who the 'foul Beast' really is, and Quatre will feel guilty, and rightly so, until he gets over it. Be kind to them, Zechs."

"Of course."

"You, Duo, will have an easier time of it. Zechs's family will be so delighted to have their son back that they'll gladly accept you. Oh," Wufei added hastily, "this is all just guesses and advice, by the way. Not, ah, _real_ predictions."

"Right," Duo said, and grinned. "I understand."

"All right. You two are set." Wufei glanced at his watch. "Just in time. I have to attend Princess Aurora and Prince Charming's fiftieth wedding anniversary. And so do you, Dorothy," he said, more loudly.

Dorothy, who had been playing with two ivory salt-and-pepper shakers in the form of elephants, turned around, the shakers still in her hand, and asked, "Can I keep these? They're very pretty!"

"Take them," Zechs hastened to say. "Please take anything you want." _And go_, was the unspoken tag to that sentence.

"Oh, you're too kind!" Dorothy exclaimed, looking touched. "Truly you have a noble heart, beautiful prince. But I'll just take these. Now shall we go, Wuffle-muffin?"

"Wuffle-muffin?" Wufei looked scandalized. "What kind of name is that?"

Dorothy flitted over and hung on Wufei's shoulder, leering. "Don't you like it, my dear manly wonder?"

"Never speak it again in my presence, woman," Wufei commanded, looking sour. "Now come on or we'll be late."

"Of course, Wu-kitten!" Dorothy said sweetly. Wufei's right eyebrow twitched, and he grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her away.

There was thoughtful silence for a moment. "That was very... educational," Duo offered, looking up at Zechs.

"Educational. Yes, I suppose that fits," Zechs said with a sigh. He got up and brought Duo up with him, then gave him a gentle kiss. "Come, love. It's late. Let's sleep. We're going to have a long day tomorrow."


	19. Epilogue

_**The Ice Prince  
**__**Epilogue**_

They slept together, of course, each resting in the other's arms and taking comfort from the other's presence. Duo had never felt such peace in all his life as he felt that night, warmed against his prince's body, lulled to sleep by his beloved's soft breathing. He could have stayed like that forever.

Magic aided them through the following morning -- they didn't even have to get out of bed in order to prepare themselves for the day. "Magic can make you very lazy, but I'm pampering you," Zechs told Duo with a smile as the green hands zoomed in and out, bringing water, handy little bowls, towels, various hair tools, and breakfast.

"Pamper away, m'dear," Duo yawned cheerfully as he washed his face with the clear, cold water.

They did eventually get out of bed. Zechs did Duo's hair himself, brushing all the tangles out with gentle strokes and then braiding carefully. For his part, Duo chose what both of them would wear as the prince waited patiently. He dressed Zechs in a white silk robe trimmed with gold that was a conscious yet modest echo of Oz royal dress, and selected for himself a dark blue tunic with matching pants.

In order to give themselves time to decide what they would say, Zechs and Duo opted to ride to the Maxwell farm rather than speed themselves there with the aid of Zechs's magic. They chatted back and forth, rehearsing their lines. The day was lovely and the horses fit.

They arrived at the Maxwell farm somewhere around three or four o'clock. Everything went more or less as Wufei had predicted. Relena nearly died on the spot when she discovered who Zechs was and who he had been, while Quatre exerted real effort not to stare and apologized to Zechs for his actions. Duo was proud of how Zechs acted; though he'd confessed to nervousness as they neared Duo's home, no sign of that nervousness was evident in word or deed. He was the picture of polite nobility, even to Dorlian. Dorlian was floored when Duo informed him that Zechs was the lost Peacecraft and stupefied when told that he and Zechs were engaged and would marry in White Fang.

After these initial shocks, however, the family quickly accepted Zechs as a person rather than as a curiosity. Quatre, it seemed, had finally met his intellectual match, and Relena adored her brother-in-law to-be. Dorlian turned desperate and hopeful eyes on Zechs until finally, the prince took him aside and asked forgiveness for any pain his actions a year ago had caused him. Dorlian pardoned him readily and added, while nodding very rapidly, that he very much approved of the impending match and would dearly love to go live in White Fang again. Zechs reassured him and promised him economic stability for the rest of his life, and with that simple pledge, the prince captured the old man's heart forever.

With many apologies for the poor condition of the cottage, Dorlian hurried to prepare Duo's bedroom for two people and glowed brilliantly red when Duo told him that they really only needed the one bed. Zechs thought this was very entertaining and laughed over it as they talked that night. They fell asleep in satisfaction.

The next morning, Zechs got Duo and himself ready quickly and efficiently. Quatre, who liked to keep on top of current events even out here in the hinterlands, had told them that the King and Queen were still alive, and Zechs was in a hurry to see his family. They bid Dorlian, Relena, and Quatre farewell, and, this time with the aid of magic, Zechs got them to White Fang. Although they hadn't felt the passage of time, due to certain peculiarities of such magic it was sunset when they arrived.

Their arrival in court caused an immediate stir. Zechs was examined by all sorts of people to ascertain that he was indeed who he said he was while Duo waited nervously in the background. Zechs bore this patiently and was finally granted audience to see the King and Queen. At first the guards tried to tell him that Duo could not accompany him, but Zechs told them flatly that was not an acceptable answer.

The royal sovereigns recognized Zechs at once and wept over him, calling Prince Walker in. Prince Walker, now a stout thirty-five year old, burst into tears as soon as he saw Zechs and wailed, "Please, please be Heir again! I don't _want_ to be Heir, it's such hard work and I'm not suited for it at _all_!" Looking a bit startled, Zechs consoled him, and the sobbing King and Queen granted Zechs the title of Heir-Presumptive once again.

Once his family had finally gotten over their initial outpouring of joy -- which took some time, since it had been nineteen years and Zechs had long since been given up for dead -- Zechs introduced Duo. Duo was excruciatingly polite until the Queen, whose cheeks were still wet with tears but who had a winning impish smile, told him to relax. The elfish old King, beaming and grateful, thanked Duo for his instrumental role in returning Zechs to his human body. They remembered Duo as Beauty because of the craze that had swept the poets in his fifteenth year.

Duo hadn't thought the sovereigns would approve of him or his promise to Zechs, but to his surprise, they sanctioned the pairing. The Queen thought Duo a beautiful boy and the story very romantic, and the King didn't see a single problem. So they stayed in the palace and allowed the news to seep out that the lost Peacecraft prince had found his way home again, with the aid of Duo Maxwell, Beauty of old. To Duo's relief, Zechs restrained the poets from going overboard.

Their marriage was simple, but well-attended. When the King and Queen died, Zechs and Duo took their places. They proved themselves worthy of their offices their first year, when intermittent tornadoes and storms rocked the provinces of Leo and Aries. Their handling of the difficult situation earned them high praise.

Their reign was golden. Together, they greatly reduced crime and hunger, sent ambassadors to all pertinent nations, and made Oz a true power in the world, a modern utopia and an example to other countries. They were the first to exchange representatives with the non-human races, such as fairies and elves. (Wufei made quite an impact in the court.) Duo was known and loved for his patronage of the arts, and Zechs was cherished for his egalitarian manner, wisdom, and powerful Mage-craft.

Being related to the King's Prince, the Maxwells were offered homes in White Fang. Quatre declined, saying that he wanted to stay with Trowa in the country, but Relena and Heero as well as Dorlian all came. Duo gave them a manor near the royal palace and saw to it that Relena's children were given all the best.

When the time came that heirs were needed, Duo and Zechs decided to try for two sons. Zechs chose as the mother of his child a writer and noblewoman, Lady Lucrezia Noin of the city of Pisces, and Duo picked the mage Hilde Schbeiker of Aries, both of whom were close friends of the couple. The ladies agreed.

The resulting children were both boys. Zechs's son, the firstborn, was named Alexander Aramis, and Duo's son was named Solo Amadís. Alexander was a charming boy who took after his father, with silver-blonde hair and dark blue eyes. Solo was brown-haired, indigo-eyed, and a bundle of mischief. They were born only two weeks apart and might as well have been twins; they were as well coordinated as if they'd been born of the same womb. They made the court a very interesting place to be, especially since they had both inherited Mage-Gift from their parents and put it to creative use.

Eventually, as Duo and Zechs knew would happen, the bards and musicians set their story to paper and music. As Dorothy had predicted, it made quite a musical, though Duo groaned when his son laughingly informed him that the performance was entitled "Beauty and the Beast." They went to see the show, making all the perfectly qualified and capable actors very nervous, and Duo couldn't help but comment after every other line, giving Zechs great difficulty in keeping a straight face. Alex and Solo, who had demanded to come, found the show deeply moving and were much in awe of their fathers afterwards. Zechs was very much amused by the fact that Duo was played by a woman, but told the newspapers the next day that he'd found the production "true to what actually happened and performed with remarkable professionalism." He shrugged unabashedly when Duo howled with laughter at this.

So they lived, in happiness and love, adored by their people and their children. They died peacefully in their sleep within a month of each other, after lives long and well-spent in the service of others, and were mourned with real sincerity in Oz and its neighboring nations. Alexander took the throne and ruled kindly and well with Solo as his trusted adviser, both having been taught by their fathers how to be just and wise. Duo and Zechs's love was forever after remembered as a tale of honest virtue and perfect passion, and it resounded through the ages to the present day, when your scribe puts down her quill and says, a look of satisfaction on her tired face,

_"The End."_


End file.
